The Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi: From Several Points of View
by WestwardGlance
Summary: The life of Obi-Wan Kenobi, presented as a series of short stories from the perspectives of those around him, from his closest allies to his greatest foes. From Padawan to Jedi Master to Hermit, this work encompasses the entirety of his life. This collection contains 30 short stories from 25 different points of view. This work is complete!
1. Discipline: Qui-Gon Jinn

_**Author's Note:**_ I've been wanting to do a character study piece on Obi-Wan Kenobi for quite some time now and have struggled with coming up with a structure to do so. The problem with Obi-Wan is that his story covers many decades and for much of it he is alone. There is no one fit to tell the entire story of Obi-Wan but Obi-Wan himself, and I do not trust him to be a truthful narrator. I think he is too humble to narrate his own tale.

This ultimately led me to this idea. If Obi-Wan cannot narrate his own story, then those around him must do so. But it must be a chorus of many voices This piece will be a series of short stories from many different viewpoints focused on the character of Obi-Wan and other's perception of him. They will take place in chronological order. I am making EVERY effort to be Canon Compliant (TM). Yes, there will be plenty of non-canon scenes, but I'll do my best to make them fit within canon.

Also to fully enjoy this piece, you'll need to have seen both The Clone Wars and Rebels. I know the animated side of Star Wars isn't to everyone's taste but several of the most important events of his life take place in these series, so they cannot be ignored if you really want to dig into Obi-Wan's life. So **spoiler alert** if you haven't finished them yet.

Finally, if you enjoy this, check out my other work. It's all Rebels related until this point; this is my first time stepping into broader Star Wars Fan Fiction.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 _ **The Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi: From Several Points of View**_

* * *

 ** _Act 1: The Padawan_**

* * *

 _ **Discipline: Qui Gon Jinn**_

 _ **46 BBY**_

"Obi-Wan Kenobi is a disciplined boy." This was the chief observation that Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn made on the day he took Obi-Wan as his Padawan.

The Jedi Master had watched the class of younglings under the instruction of Mace Windu practicing their saber forms. That session ended nearly an hour ago, and the training room was now empty. Except for young Obi-Wan, who practiced on alone.

The observation deck was empty, save for Qui-Gon, and he studied the boy through a one-way mirror. The Jed Master stood at ease, hands behind his back. The council had approved the decision, but he would never dream of interrupting Obi-Wan's practice. He would wait until the youngling finished.

Because in truth, he needed the practice. Obi-Wan was a talented young man who would grow to become a powerful Jedi, but this wasn't out of aptitude. No, Obi-Wan was slightly above average at best when it came to raw talent. But Obi-Wan was the most dedicated youngling of his generation. He was not the most gifted when it came to using the Force, and yet he spent long hours meditating and practicing to improve himself. He was not naturally the most intelligent when it came to his academic pursuits, but he could be found in the archives long after the other younglings had finished their assignments. Neither was he the most naturally athletic of his peers. Obi-Wan recognized this and here he was, an hour after formal practice had ended still working through the basics of Form IV.

"Mastery cares not for aptitude, but for dedication," Qui-Gon repeated the old Jedi saying to himself as he watched the boy. The dedication of Obi-Wan would place him far ahead of his peers in the years to come. The Jedi Council had not failed to notice this, and in fact, several of its members had been eyeing Obi-Wan closely. One of them would surely have chosen to take Obi-Wan as their Padawan had Qui-Gon not interfered. But he would not leave the young man to such a fate if he could help it.

Obi-Wan turned his lightsaber off, and Qui-Gon moved to the stairs. Descending them quickly, he opened the door that led into the training room and walked through before Obi-Wan could leave the hall. The boy turned and stared in surprise at the master. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and attached his lightsaber to his belt. "I wasn't aware I had an audience. If I had known you were watching, I may have given a better performance."

"Is that so?" Qui-Gon said gently. "Is this then the source of your discipline? The need for the approval of others?"

Obi-Wan looked uncomfortable for the briefest moment and then shook his head. "No, no I didn't mean it like that I..." He paused to collect his thoughts. "We've been so thoroughly trained to earn the approval of the Masters that we try harder when they are watching."

Qui-Gon smiled to put the boy at ease. Even in the little things, Obi-Wan sought to do what was expected of him, to give the right answers, to live up to expectations. Jedi were supposed to be humble, and so Obi-Wan would do his best to be humble. "I'm not here to judge you, young one. Seeking the approval of your peers and superiors is natural and not entirely an evil. And fear not; I know your strive for excellence is for your own sake. No, I have not come to judge you, but rather to speak with you."

Obi-Wan's faced reddened, and he bowed his head to the older Jedi. "It seems you know me already, but my name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm afraid I don't know your name though, Master...?"

"Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon Jinn. It's a pleasure to meet you face to face at last."

The youngling regarded his elder. "So you've been watching me too," he observed at last. "You're not the only one you know."

"Indeed," Qui-Gon says thoughtfully "I know well that you are watched closely by your masters, but I was unaware that you had noticed this."

Obi-Wan nodded. "It's hard not to. Council members taking over my classes. Observing my training sessions. I'm still a bit young to be taken as a Padawan, but in a couple of years..." he let the thought hang in the air, perhaps afraid that he sounded boastful.

"Obi-Wan you may always speak freely and without fear in my presence. You will find that I am... More lenient than many of the other Masters. Especially the Council members. You feel you are being watched by the Council and that one may choose you as a Padawan someday? Your instincts are correct young one, and I can name three that would accept you given the opportunity," Qui-Gon chuckled "But I do not think that will happen for, if you desire, you shall become my Padawan instead."

Qui-Gon noted how Obi-Wan's face betrayed a range of emotions and that the youngling made no effort to hide his feelings in the Force. Qui-Gon laughed and patted Obi-Wan on the back. "I see you are surprised that you are being taken as a Padawan at so young an age."

The youngling opened his mouth to speak, then looking down, thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut and nodded.

"You are not the youngest to become a Padawan, but you are an exceptional student, young Obi-Wan. Your dedication to improving yourself is unheard of in one so young. It is a good thing that you be assigned to a Master. A Master will help guide you into becoming the Jedi you are destined to be. But I also sense disappointment in you. No, do not try to deny it, it is a natural emotion. You knew that Council Members were watching you, grooming you to take you as Padawan, and then a Master you've never met tries to take you in their stead. Not all ambition is evil, and I understand the disappointment." Qui-Gon paused to allow the youngling to speak.

Obi-Wan took his time forming his thoughts and then spoke only a single word. "Why?"

This pleased Qui-Gon, as most younglings would have had a thousand questions, most of them nonsense. Obi-Wan had boiled all his thoughts down to a single inquiry, a single word, the most important one of all. Qui-Gon sat on the floor of the practice room and gestured for the youngling to do the same. "There are many better Jedi than I, Obi-Wan. Ones that are stronger, faster, wiser. I am not among the great and my name will not be remembered long after my passing. Many of the Council did not see me fit to take such a promising young Jedi as yourself as my Padawan."

Obi-Wan stared quietly at Qui-Gon. "But they allowed it in the end; they must have."

"Indeed, they did, Obi-Wan. Over all the more powerful Masters, they approved me to take you as my Padawan. Do you know how I convinced them?" When Obi-Wan shook his head, Qui-Gon continued. "I convinced them that you didn't need the strongest Master. You didn't need a saber teacher like Master Windu, or a powerful sage like Yoda. I told them that you would reach your own greatest potential on the strength of your dedication and discipline. You will reach your highest heights on your own, regardless of who is your Master."

Obi-Wan peered at Qui-Gon, and the older Jedi felt his searching eyes trying to probe into him. "Then why did the council approve _you_ to be my Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled at the youngling and put a hand on his shoulder. "I told the Council that you did not need someone to lecture you to follow the code; you will do that yourself. You don't need someone to press you in your studies; you are driven to know everything you can already. And you need no reminders to practice with your saber," Qui-Gon gestured to the practice room around them, "for you will practice longer than your Masters. I told them that what you need is someone to remind you to stop. Look around you. Feel the living Force. That I would be the one to remind you to not merely follow the code but to always do what is right, to do good, and love others. Obi-Wan these are the things that I can teach you. You will be a powerful Jedi no matter who trains you; _I_ will teach you to be a good man." Qui-Gon paused his speech and looked at the boy, his face overflowing with warmth. "That is if you wish me to be your Master."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I thought you convinced the Council to let me be your Padawan. What do my wishes have to do with it?"

"Obi-Wan, I will not commandeer your life against your will. If you would rather a greater Jedi than I be your Master, then I will step aside, and one of the Council members will take you under their wing." Qui-Gon stood to his feet and offered a hand to help the boy as well. "But if you desire, I will teach you everything I know of the Force and the Galaxy." Obi-Wan took his hand and stood bashfully looking at his feet. Qui-Gon smiled. "I will not ask you to make a decision here and now. Think about it. Meditate. Seek the will of the Living Force."

He smiled and bowed his head to the youngling one last time, and turned away. He had barely made it to the door when Obi-Wan called to him. "Master Qui-Gon, sir. I... I want to be your Padawan. Please."

Qui-Gon turned back to face the boy and regarded him. He briefly wondered at the boy's reasons for accepting. Perhaps it was because Qui-Gon sought him out; acceptance is a persuasive force. Or perhaps it was because he understood that Qui-Gon could teach him what a Council member could not.

Perhaps he felt the deepest truth, that it was the will of the Force. Qui-Gon was not surprised at Obi-Wan's decision; he had foreseen that he would accept and become his Padawan. After all, both the Cosmic and Living Force willed it. It had grand designs for Obi-Wan, of this Qui-Gon had no doubts. Qui-Gon knew that he himself was but a stepping stone and that his Padawan would far surpass him in deeds and accomplishment.

He tried not to imagine what would become Obi-Wan if a Council member trained him. A cold, stiff man; powerful, but utterly rigid. His discipline would drive him to excel and in so doing would make nothing of himself, being deaf to the Living Force and the galaxy around him. He would be an embodiment of the all the weaknesses of the Jedi Order.

But that future would not happen now. The discipline of Obi-Wan would still drive him to overcome; but guided by a softer wisdom, he would become wise himself. Clever, dangerous, and yet humble, he would be a man around which a great many things would turn. Qui-Gon knew that he would be but a small part of those grand endeavors and he was humbled by the part that was his to play.

Qui-Gon smiled, and his blue eyes shone. "Very well then, my Padawan. Come then; let's get you cleaned up. We have much to speak of."

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, there are many more to come.


	2. Cleverness: Dexter Jetster

_**Author's Note:**_ Oh wait, did you think I was only going to use serious characters? I've got plenty of unexpected faces to pull out of the stable before the end. Including Dexter Jetster...

* * *

 _ **Cleverness: Dexter Jetster**_

 _ **38BBY**_

 _ **Obi-Wan Age: 19**_

Dexter Jetster scanned through the latest survey information on his datapad. The data streamed past rapidly, but Dexter ignored most of it. It reached the end and paused. He sighed, not seeing any signs of the ore they were after. Picking up his comlink, he flipped it on and said. "Nothing. Again. Fire the next sonic charge."

"Acknowledged," said the Nautolan on the other side, and a dull thump reverberated through the mining camp. Dust kicked up into the air and Dexter used his lower set of limbs to wave it away. Dust. That's all they'de been finding out here, and if they didn't find anything of more value soon, they'd pack up shop. Head to Subterrel. Anywhere else really. Dexter hated this dustball of a planet.

The data feed from the sensors began to pour in again, and he continued to eye it for the telltale signs of ore. Dexter leaned on his right upper hand and stared at the screen, bored and barely paying attention. Suddenly he heard a voice a behind him.

"Hello, there."

Dexter turned to regard the newcomer. Young human male, not even fully an adult if his somewhat thin build was any indication. And by his attire...

"Well, what have we here. A Jedi youngling, perhaps. What brings you all the way out to this worthless rock?

"Padawan, actually. My Master sent me to find you, as it were, Mr... Jetster I believe?

Dexter smiled broadly and reached a hand out to the Padawan. "Dexter Jetster, at your service. And the only Jedi Master that cares one Correlian Scrap Slug about old Dex is Qui-Gon Jinn. Never knew he took an apprentice. What might your name be, young one?"

The padawan smiled and took Dexters enormous hand and shook it. "Obi-wan Kenobi. Qui-gon mentioned that it had been many years since he'd last seen you, and I must say I had a bit of difficulty tracking you down."

"Not an accident, I assure you. When you know as many people as old Dex does, well it's best to either be well armed or hard to find."

Obi-wan smiled playfully. "Yes, well you're a bit of both, actually if you don't mind me stating the obvious."

Dexter looked down at his four arms. He chuckled deeply from his belly and crossed his top set of limbs across his chest. "Say that's not too bad for a Jedi. I'm used to your type being a bit more... stodgy. Your master Qui-Gon is good in a pinch, but he's never been much for a good joke. How did you find me way out here on Iptau VI, anyway."

"Well, I simply followed the trail," Obi-wan said slowly. "Started at Ord Mantell a week ago where Qui-Gon last saw you. Found record of you purchasing a freighter. The seller said you were looking for prospecting equipment. The seller of said equipment knew a Nautolan who signed on with you, and it was his brother who finally directed me to Iptau VI."

Dexter stroked his chin. "Clever bit of detective work for a mere Padawan. I was going to ask why your Master let you off your leash, but, hehe, your results speak for themselves." Dexter stroked his chin appreciatively and then shrugged. "Very well, come. Let us have a drink and see what your Master needs from me." He picked up his comm. "Boys hang it up for today. We're wasting our time here. We'll move on to a new site tomorrow."

Dexter led Obi-Wan across the mining camp to a pre-fab building that served as a mess of sorts. He led the Padawan into the dimly lit room. "Two-Bee," he yelled at a dingy looking droid. "Two drinks. The strongest you have for me and..." Dexter glanced at the Padawan. "You even old enough to drink?"

Obi-wan shrugged, "Depends on the planet. I'll have something non-alcoholic, please. I don't intend on being here long.

They sat across one another at a table. "So what can old Dex do for you, young Jedi?"

Obi-wan leaned forward. "Qui-Gon and I are investigating a slaver ring. Unfortunately, we're having difficulty figuring out what system they're based out of, and he thought that you might be able to help."

"Maybe. Maybe," Dexter said thoughtfully. "I've run into many slaver groups in my day. Who runs this ring? Are they new?"

The Padawan nods and accepts a drink from the droid. "The gang itself seems to be new, but the leader certainly has been around. Goes by the name title of Azure Hammer. Nasty fellow, from what we can tell. Devaronian. Unpopular enough that when his men are captured, they'll talk and tell what they know."

"But wary enough to not let his men know anything important." Dexter takes a deep pull from his drink. "So this... Azure Hammer isn't a fool. Compartmentalizes. I'm afraid I've not heard of him, sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not surprised. Qui-Gon thinks Azure Hammer is a new moniker. So unless you happen to know of a Devaronian Slaver who's seemingly gone dark..."

Dexter shakes his head. "Afraid not. Got any other little tidbits that could help Old Dex figure this out?"

"We're relatively confident that the gang operates out of the far end of the Corellian Run, on account of most of the slaves we've rescued being Twi-Lek and Rodian."

Dexter noticed a twinge of discomfort cross the young Jedi's face. Good, he thought. More Core Rats need to see the misery that goes on this far out into the Rim. He'll be a better Jedi for it. "To be expected, unfortunately. Two heavily exploited people groups. Rodians are adaptable and make excellent workers in a variety of environments and Twi-Leks... Well. It's better we not talk about it." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I wouldn't expect their actual base of operations to be right on the Corellian Run. I bet they'll be on a spur. Somewhere close to their prey, but far enough away to make it difficult to trace them back to their point of origin."

Obi-Wan nodded, thoughtful. "Yes, Qui-Gon and I have come to the same conclusion." He pulled out a small holo-projector and laid it on the table. A map of the relevant quadrant of the galaxy appeared. "This region here is our primary focus. Now then our final clues," he reached into his robe, "are these right here," he said tossing a handful of canvas patches onto the table.

Dexter leaned forward. "Oh ho ho! now we're getting somewhere, and now I see why Qui-Gon sent you to find me." The patches, meant to be worn on the sleeve, were dark green and had blood red outlines. In the middle of each was the skull of some fanged beast, painted with purple stripes.

"These patches are found on some but not all of the slavers. We think that Azure Hammer is recruiting from other gangs and having them do the dirty work. They know nothing and are difficult to trace back to him. The Jedi Archives are pretty thorough when it comes to underworld gangs and cartels. Unfortunately, we didn't find an exact match on this emblem, but we found a Sloop Gang on Yaga Minor who's emblem matched except for the purple stripes on the skull."

Dexter suddenly laughed, as the whole problem and the solution became clear to him. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but Dexter just motioned for him to continue. He wanted to hear this out.

"Well," Obi-Wan said, puzzled by the change in Dexter's demeanor, "Yaga Minor is about as far away from our suspected area as you can get. We followed up the lead anyway and came back empty-handed; the Sloop Gang was clean as could be, and we actually interrupted them doing a charity race for a local orphanage."

Dexter laughed again, and this time Obi-wan joined him. "Bet that was awkward..."

"Hmm. Yes, it was." Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair. "So this is where we're at. Qui-Gon thinks you might be able to help. He says you've been useful in solving this sort of puzzle before."

Dexter folded his top set of limbs in front of him on the table. "You could say that, yes. It seems the wisdom of Old Dex isn't quite the same as the wisdom of the Jedi, even one so peculiar as Qui-Gon Jinn." Dexter winked at the Padawan.

"You know something then," Obi-Wan said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"Oh absolutely. You see sometimes seeing the truth depends greatly on your point of view." Dexter chuckled to himself again, pleased with his own cleverness and curious if the Padawan would figure it out on his own.

Obi-wan crossed his arms. "I see. I suspect you're not quoting Jedi platitudes at me for the fun of it. If I'm to take this as a hint..." He stopped and looked at the patches on the table and was silent for nearly a minute. Finally, he smiled. "We have the emblem upside down. Or rather the gang does. The skull is upside down on the emblem. That's why we didn't find it in the archives. We were looking for a right side up skull."

Dexter gave a polite clap. "Well done, young Jedi. Perhaps there's hope for you yet! Yes, I recognized this emblem immediately. Nasty group out of Socorro. The Raxin Slashers. Ran afoul of them a few years back while I was smuggling exotic birds. And Socorro..."

"Is right in our search area, just off the Corellian run," Obi-wan said highlighting it on the map. "Fantastic. I see Qui-gon's faith in you was well placed." The Padawan stood and extended a hand to Dexter.

Dexter glanced at it and frowned. "Leaving so soon? I grill the best nerf-burger in the Outer Rim if you want to stick around for a good honest meal."

"No, I must be going. You were hard enough to find as it was, and my Master and I have a gang to track down on Soccoro. And after that a rather elusive slaver."

Dexter sighed and stood. He took Obi-Wan's tiny hand and shook it firmly, laughing to himself about how fragile humans were. Ridiculous creatures, so soft and delicate. To think they practically ran the galaxy too. "Well, if you must go, I can't stop you. Tell Qui-Gon we're even now."

Obi-Wan bowed. "I will. Take care."

Dexter laughed at the polite Padawan, a rumbling sound that filled the room. "Until next time young Jedi. Come find me the next time the wisdom of the Jedi fails you." Obi-Wan left the room, and Dexter stared after him for several minutes before finishing the rest of his drink in a single draught. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, huh? You're a clever young Jedi. You'll do just fine I think."


	3. Gentleness: Duchess Satine Kryze

_**Gentleness: Satine Kryze  
**_ _ **35 BBY  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 22**_ _ **  
**_

Obi-Wan Kenobi is many things, Duchess Satine Kryze thought to herself, but gentle is not one of them. Especially with that sharp tongue of his. She eyed him warily. He had just let loose another of his acerbic one-liners. He was witty, perhaps, but not exactly what one imagined coming from a Jedi. She rolled her eyes at him for the ten thousandth time since they had been traveling together. This was a familiar ritual. Clever comment and then rolled eyes.

It was part of why Satine was falling in love with Kenobi. She had spent months trying to convince herself otherwise as they had evaded bounty hunters, ambushes, and danger, first on Mandalore and then on outlying Mandalorian worlds. Now here on Draboon, Satine knew her own resistance was simply futile gesturing. Pity, she thought, she had rather enjoyed their antagonistic relationship, especially the verbal sorties. There had been many of these arguments, some devolving into shouting matches between herself and the Padawan. Qui-Gon Jinn, the Jedi Master, always watched with a knowing smile, waiting until the opportune moment to pronounce his judgment on the situation and break the disagreement.

Satine tried to keep up with Kenobi as he forced his way through the swamp, noticing how when he pushed back branches of foliage he waited for her to pass before releasing them. It was these little things that Satine had noticed from the beginning that had turned her heart towards him. For as much as he liked to argue or toss sarcastic comments in her direction, he was also careful to watch out for her, and in more ways than just the mission demanded. If she over packed a bag, he would insist on carrying it, no matter how firm her objections. If a boot did not fit her and they were in the wild, he would cleverly modify the sole until it fit properly. Obi-Wan Kenobi had many talents, and it seemed he used them all for Satine's benefit whether she wanted him to or not. But he was not gentle.

"Are we lost?" Satine asked Kenobi for the third time. She knew they weren't lost and simply wanted to antagonize him.

"Lost? Lo... Satine can you for once trust my judgment?" The Jedi turned to glare at her "We will be back at the camp shortly."

"We should have been back at the camp half an hour ago," Satine commented dryly. They had left early that morning to reach a supply drop. Now loaded down and many hours later, they were returning to their camp with another few days of food.

"Yes, well then." Kenobi cleared his throat. He turned and began to push his way back through the undergrowth. "Even I make mistakes on occasion. You must admit that those paths looked quite similar."

"They looked similar, alright. Except that I told you which was the correct one and you didn't believe me." Satine smiled hoping he'd take the bait.

Instead, his shoulder drooped a little. "You did, Satine. You did." Disappointed, she followed him through the undergrowth suddenly regretting trying to bait him into an argument. In hindsight it seemed a little childish to berate him for a mistake he was already aware of. She sighed, embarrassed at how foolish she was sometimes. Clearly flirting was not a skill she was particularly talented at. She glanced at Obi-Wan. But then again, he wasn't so skilled at it either.

The silence continued for a few minutes, as they pushed through the swamp until it became nearly unbearable for Satine. "Look, Obi..."

"Quiet, Satine," he said sharply.

Satine frowned, blood pressure suddenly rising. "Excuse me, Jedi! I..."

"Satine, please," he repeated fiercely.

This gave her pause, and a cold chill ran down her spine. She listened intently. And then she heard it: a low throbbing buzz. "Venom Mites." She whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, and a rather large swarm of them." Obi-Wan produced his comlink from his robes. "Master, we appear to have a Venom-Mite swarm coming. We're on our way, but we'll have to come back for the supplies." He pulled his pack from his shoulders and motioned for Satine to do the same. She obeyed, and Obi-Wan secured both packs to a large sturdy branch a meter off the ground, activated a transmitter, and slipped it into one of the packs. "Well, Satine, we must be off. And rather quickly, I might add."

She nodded, no longer interested in their previous fight. "Very well." They pushed through the swamp at a faster pace now that they were unencumbered by their packs, but Satine grumbled at herself for slowing Obi-Wan down and putting them both in danger. Being of Mandalorian heritage, she was fit and athletic, if not a fan of fighting, but Obi-Wan could far outpace her if he wanted.

The sound of the droning was beginning to close around them, and Satine almost suggested Obi-Wan move on ahead without her when suddenly he stopped and turned to her. "Satine, I'm about to have to do something that I'm afraid you won't like."

She frowned at him. "Oh, what's that..." She was cut off as he swept her up in his arms and took off through the swamp at a much higher pace. Satine instinctively clung to Obi-Wan, both thrilled and annoyed at this turn of events. She noticed several things at once. First, no longer slowed down by her slower pace, Obi-Wan could move through the swamp at an inhuman speed, leaping great bounds of a dozen meters or more. Second, the Venom Mites, flying pests as large as a man's fist, were all around them now. A single sting would hardly be fatal to an adult human, but one would not receive a single sting in the midst of a swarm like this.

Finally, she noticed how gently Obi-Wan held her. Somehow, even as he took great leaps through the air, he was able to cushion the impact so that she hardly felt it. Satine knew that their camp had to be close, and hoped this flight would be over quickly; the strange rapid motions of Obi-Wan's leaps were beginning to make her feel sick.

Obi-Wan suddenly cried out in pain mid-leap. He must have been stung, Satine realized in horror. She glanced forward as the ground rushed towards them, hoping that Obi-Wan would be able to stick the landing.

His legs buckled under him as he hit the ground and both Jedi and Mandalorian tumbled through the swamp. Satine felt something catch the side of her thigh and tear into it like a hot blade before she came to a stop on her back. Suddenly she heard the snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber as Qui-Gon stepped over her and began cleaving venom mites neatly in two.

She tried to sit up but felt the blood leaving her head as the world grew hazy around her. A second lightsaber ignited, and now both blue and green light danced over her head. Making a determined effort, Satine pulled herself up against the base of a tree. She breathed heavily and tried to get a look at her thigh. A deep cut ran the length of it, and blood was beginning to soak what remained of her shredded pant leg. Lovely, she thought and slumped down toward the ground.

Suddenly Obi-Wan was by her side. "Satine, are you alright? Speak to me."

She roused herself, not realizing she had drifted off. "I'm... I'm here. Mostly. While I didn't mind being held by you, please don't drop me next time." Her voice slurred, and she knew she was saying ridiculous things, but at the moment Satine didn't care; she was going into shock.

Obi-Wan was wrapping a strip of cloth around her leg tightly. "This will slow the bleeding till we get back to camp. The swarm is moving on. We'll dress this properly soon." He paused a pained look on his face. "I'm... I'm sorry, Satine."

"Whatever for, Obi?" she murmured. She didn't hear his answer as the world closed in again with a rush of darkness. For a time the world was all blurs of motion and pain and discomfort. Vaguely she was aware that Obi-wan lifted her ever so gently into his arms again and carried her. She also heard Qui-Gon's comforting voice speaking near her, a sound she would never tire of.

Sometime later she came out of her stupor. The pain from her thigh was enough to crash through the dreamy walls and bring her back to reality. She was on her back, resting on a cot by the fire in their camp. Night had fallen on Draboon, and the swamp was alive with the sound of millions of insects and birds all clamoring to be heard over one other.

She glanced at her leg under the blanket. Most of her pant leg had been cut away, and the wound was now properly dressed. Her face reddened when she thought of Obi-Wan treating her.

"Fear not, Satine. I treated your wound. He had scrapes of his own to deal with."

Satine turned to look at Qui-Gon sitting by the fire. Reaching to the side of the cot she pressed a button, and it raised her to a sitting position. "I think it matters not which of you tended to me. But... thank you. I'm afraid that... whatever you gave me for pain has... worn off." She grimaced and clenched her teeth at the dull throb reverberating through her leg and up her spine.

Qui-Gon came and kneeled by her cot, drew a hypospray, and administered a dose of… something. Satine wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it took the edge off the pain in her leg nearly immediately. "My Lady, I will have to apologize. With the level of care that I can provide, your leg will not be permanently damaged but there will most certainly be extensive scarring."

"Hmph," Satine grunted. "I may be a pacifist, but I'm still a Mandalorian. A scar is a badge of honor, a testament to what one has endured."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully "Even if one has only endured a nasty tumble through a swamp?"

"It wasn't his fault," Satine said quietly wrinkling her nose. "I think he was stung by a venom mite."

"Six actually, though I don't know which stings were before or after the fall. He's in his tent. Sleeping off the venom."

Satine glanced at Obi's tent feeling guilty; she hadn't even thought about how he had fared since the swarm. The last she had remembered he had been carrying her back to camp, even though he had been stung six times…

"Obi-Wan will be fine," Qwi-Gon said, "though I can't help but notice your concern. Mandalorians and Jedi have not traditionally been so friendly as the two of you." He smiled and moved back to the fire.

"You imagine things, Master Jedi," Satine shortly. "I think you mistake friendship for contention. Surely you have noticed that we cannot make it through half a conversation without being at each other's throats."

Qui-Gon laughed gently. "Yes, I know. I've been here too, even if most of your focus has been on my Padawan. If you think I'm blind to the undercurrents, well then... I may be a Jedi, but I am no stranger to the ways of the galaxy at large."

Satine stared at the fire uncomfortably. "Obi-wan is a Jedi. I am the Duchess of House Kryze of Mandalore. If you think I have any fantasies that there could ever be more than a friendship between us…" She trailed off no longer confident where she was going with this thought. "I'm no fool at least," she bit out, feeling her face redden again.

Qui-gon regarded her with a calm look. "There is more conflict within my Padawan over you than he is willing to admit. And you know well your own conflict."

Satine felt herself growing angry. "Isn't it your place as his Master to remind him of the Jedi's precious code?!" She glared at the Jedi Master. He only returned her gaze calmly, and she looked away ashamed.

Qui-Gon chuckled and looked at the fire. "Actually, it is he that reminds me of the Code more often than not." Satine raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. She had noticed months ago that Qui-Gon was the more relaxed of the two Jedi and her heart fell a little in her chest. Obi-Wan was indeed loyal to the Code of the Jedi, and there would be little place for her in his heart. Perhaps this was just as well; she was equally committed to her own cause, and Mandalore was no place for a Jedi.

She lowered her cot back down and turned away from Qui-Gon. "And yet," the Jedi Master said softly, "I have taught him to do more than blindly accept the path placed before him. He could perhaps be pliable."

Satine didn't move but choked out a short bitter laugh. "Master Jedi, do you wish me to tempt your Padawan into doing something he is forbidden to do?"

She couldn't see Qui-Gon but knew he was smiling from the sound of his voice. "He is but a young man and might be easily swayed by one such as yourself. We men have our weaknesses, weaknesses that the Jedi Code chooses to ignore to its own detriment."

Satine was quiet for a minute in light of this damning statement. She asked a simple question. "You're not a normal Jedi are you?"

Qui-Gon did not hesitate to respond in kind with another question. "You're not a normal Mandalorian are you?" Satine didn't answer; there was no need, and Qui-Gon continued. "Just as you have looked at the history of your people and seen that they are not without flaws, I too have examined the history of mine. You hope to build a better Mandalore. I hope to do the same for the Order."

Satine thought of the desolation of her homeworld, the endless deserts where centuries ago life had teemed. The warlike ways of the Mandalorians had blasted it all to ash. Was the Jedi Order really so flawed that Qui-Gon felt that analogy appropriate? She felt this to be untrue, especially if the Order still produced such valiant men as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. She pointed this out to the Jedi Master.

"No, we are not so far gone as your homeworld yet. But the seeds of our destruction are sown, and if we do not reform our ways, then it is only a matter of time."

Satine hesitated then asked, "Does Obi-Wan share your views?" She knew the answer, of course, but part of her hoped that she was wrong. Perhaps if Obi shared a few more of Qui-Gon's beliefs...

"No, he does not. Nor do I expect him to. I only hope that he will listen to the things I teach and be a better, wiser man for it. That is all any Master can hope for, is it not?"

"Indeed," Satine whispered. She thought back to his earlier statement about Obi-Wan being pliable. Could Obi-Wan be convinced to follow her back to Mandalore? Tonight after he had so tenderly carried her, she could almost believe he would give up anything for her. Almost. But Satine thought of the Jedi he was destined to be and knew that she could never ask him to give up who he was for her. A single tear dripped down her cheek as she made her decision, one that would not change. In that moment she mourned what would never be. Perhaps they were both meant to save their people, forgoing any happiness for themselves.

"Help me to my tent, please, Master Jedi. I should rest."

Later, as Satine drifted off to sleep, she almost imagined herself cradled in Obi-Wan's arms again as he carried her through the swamps ofDraboon. "Perhaps Obi is gentle after all," she thought as dreams took her.

 _ **Author's Note:**_ This story is based on an incident mentioned in The Clone Wars. Draboon, the venom mites, and Obi-Wan dropping Satine are all mentioned briefly. I tried to use that context to expand on the tragic nature of their relationship, star-crossed lovers from enemy peoples, destined to never be together.

The surprise along the way for me when writing this one was Qui-Gon and Satine. Once I wrote the line "You're not a very good Jedi" followed by "You're not a very good Mandalorian," the extra layer of tragedy I was looking for clicked into place. Satine does not successfully reform Mandalore. She pushes too hard and the extremist push back and it costs her life. Neither is the Jedi order reformed during the life of Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon.

However, I like to believe that the life of Satine gives wisdom to and informs her sister Bo-Katan, and that Mandalore moving into the future will be an honorable place that remembers both their warrior past and the more forward thinking and outwardly focused Satine.  
I also hope that the eventually reestablished Jedi order will be a better order too. Luke's unfortunatly was a false start. Perhaps Rey's will have more hope.

I'm struggling a little with getting the next chapter into shape so it may be a couple days till I get it published. Let's just say it's from a point of view that I doubt fanfiction bothers much with.  
Until then, farewell! Review and let me know what you think!


	4. Humility: Captain Quarsh Panaka

_**Author's Note:**_ Digging deep for new perspectives again. In case you have forgotten, (Or never knew!) Captain Quarsh Panaka was captain of Queen Amidala Security in The Phantom Menace. Google him if you need a mental image refresher. When the heroes are stranded on Naboo looking for hyperdrive parts, he and Obi-Wan stayed at the Royal Starship while Qui-Gon and the others continued into Mos Espa.

Without further comment, enjoy.

* * *

 _ **Humility: Captain Quarsh Panaka**_

 _ **32 BBY: During the Invasion of Naboo**_

 _ **Obi-Wan Age: 25**_

Captain Quarsh Panaka was a man of Naboo to the very core of his being. He was the Captain of his planet's security forces. He was a steadfast defender of the Throne and its people, and he would remain so until the day of his death. Recent events with the Trade Federation, had, unfortunately, made him fear that death may come sooner than he liked. And to top that off, they were stranded on some forsaken rock he'd never heard of named Tatooine.

He walked across the sand back to the Royal Starship alone as his Queen went with the Jedi against his will and against his firm counsel. Panaka had done everything he could to dissuade her from her current course, but she had used the finest debate tactic in her arsenal; she pulled rank on him and commanded him to obey. Biting his tongue, he had said no more, but he was not pleased. Every bone in his body screamed that this was madness.

Panaka grit his teeth. He was loyal to the queen, but some days he had to constantly remind himself that she was only a teenager. Her headstrong attitude had a knack for getting her into trouble. And it was she who insisted that they maintain the ruse that Queen Amidala and Padme were two separate people. Panaka could not see the wisdom in this and would have preferred to let the Jedi in on the Queen's true identity. Either way, he didn't think it would take long for the older Jedi to figure things out. He had the look of one that could see right through you and know what you were thinking.

Actually, now that he thought about it the younger one seemed to always be frowning and scrutinizing everything around him. Maybe he would be the one to work it out first. The Queen's secret wasn't going to last long in any case.

He walked back up the ramp of the ship and hit the button to close the inner hatch. He sighed, glad to be back in the climate-controlled air. Tatooine was far too hot for his liking, and two suns bearing down from above was borderline cruel. He wiped the sweat from his brow, already missing his home, and wondered if he would ever see the clear blue skies of Naboo again.

Probably not, he thought grimly. He'd be lucky if he even saw his queen again.

"Are they away?" Obi-Wan Kenobi asked him.

Panaka turned to face him, unaware that the younger Jedi had been present. "Yes, they're away. We better hope they find what we need; I don't know what we're going to do otherwise."

Kenobi leaned against one of the walls of the ship and shrugged. "Qui-Gon will get us off this rock, of that I have no doubt. Now whether things go according to plan…?" he smiled wryly. "Let's just say things never go according to plan."

Panaka sighed, "That's not very reassuring you know."

Kenobi shrugged again. "I wasn't trying to be reassuring. Are you sure it was a good idea to send the Queen's Handmaiden with them? She seemed a little… soft to send out there, what with this being a Hutt planet and all."

Panaka felt himself bristling at the insult directed at his Queen and had to remind himself that Kenobi was in the dark about the Queen's identity. The captain cursed this stupid ruse for the hundredth time since the Jedi showed up. Would it really hurt for them to be in on things? He pursed his lips and smiled, careful not to let his annoyance show. "The Queen's Handmaiden is well trained. I'm sure she will be safe with Master Qui-Gon." I hope, Panaka thought to himself.

"Ah, well then; let us presume that you are correct. At least she'll have some fun. I'd rather be out there in her place. You and I just get to stare at the security monitors until they get back." Kenobi walked towards the cockpit. Panaka exhaled slowly finding himself agreeing; two Jedi would be better protection for the Queen than one at the rate she gets herself into trouble. He followed the Jedi into the cockpit.

Ric Olie, commander of the Naboo Royal Space Fighter Corps, sat in the cockpit watching the sensors and security monitors. He spun his chair around as the two entered. "Nothing to report, here. Padme and the others are away and outside of sensor range." Panaka flinched, hoping Kenobi wouldn't notice the focus on Padme. If there was even a chance of them keeping up the disguise, Panaka would have to get word to the entire crew to be more careful with what they said.

Kenobi scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You _Naboo_ sure are protective of your own. I promise Master Qui-Gon will look after her. She will be fine." Panaka noted how, despite expressing doubt mere moments ago, Kenobi was now reassuring others about Padme's safety. Keeping a good cover perhaps, or simply not wanting to spread panic?

The pilot must have realized his mistake because he replied lamely with "Oh, umm, yes of course."

"Why don't you go get some rest, Ric," Panaka said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Ric stood and nodded. "Yes, excellent sir, thank you." He left the cockpit, leaving Panaka alone again with the Jedi. The captain took his hat off and, setting it on the console, sat down in the pilot's seat. Punching a few buttons, he pulled up the security monitor. The perimeter was still clear. Kenobi sat in the seat beside him, pulled up another monitor, and stared at it without another word.

Panaka eyed him for a moment. These were naturally the only Jedi he had ever met, and he was having a real difficulty getting a feel for the two of them. He would have guessed the master would be the stricter, more severe one and yet it seemed Kenobi was stiff, formal and unpleasant to be around. His standoffish attitude struck Panak as arrogance. Perhaps that's what having special powers did to a young man.

After several long minutes of silence, Panaka couldn't take it anymore and tried to strike up a conversation, anything to break the monotony. "So, I have to admit; I don't really know a lot about the Jedi? What's the relationship between you and Master Qui-Gon?"

Kenobi looked at him. "I'm what's called a Padawan Learner. Qui-Gon is my Master. Think of it as a sort of extended apprenticeship. I accompany him in his daily life and learn everything I can from him, assisting him in his duties until I am promoted to the rank of Knight."

"And when does that happen?" To Panaka's eye, Kenobi looked to be in his mid-twenties. "Is this like a set amount of time or do you have to achieve something first? How long are you stuck riding someone else's coattails?" That had come out ruder than he had meant, but he was curious.

"Riding someone else's coattails?" Kenobi asked with an amused grin. "That's an interesting observation to come from a high ranking bodyguard. I would think that your whole life was dedicated to someone else's coattails."

Panaka chuckled. "That's a fair assessment I guess. Still, I would think that you'd be more ambitious, ready to do your own thing. You've got special powers and a laser sword, and here you are following around another calling him Master." He looked out the window at the horizon of sand. "As for me? I'm just a man of Naboo. I'll do my best to serve her, her people, and her Queen till the day I die."

"An admirable cause," Kenobi admitted and turned back to his monitor. "I could become a Knight at any time. I'm ready to face the trials, but until the Jedi High Council decides I'm ready, well," the young Jedi chuckled, "I'm not ready."

"That doesn't seem fair. How long have you been a Padawan."

"Many years. Since I was a boy."

Panaka raised an eyebrow and turned in his chair to face Kenobi. "And you're still an Apprentice? You're okay with that?"

Kenobi was silent for a moment. "Yes. I know for myself that I am more than ready to face the trials, regardless of what the Council thinks." He paused again. "In truth, my rank probably doesn't really have much to do with my own readiness."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Panaka frowned, curious.

Kenobi smiled. "My Master is a bit unorthodox and isn't the most popular with the Council. There are most likely politics involved. Politics I'm not particularly interested in getting in the middle of."

"Oh," Panaka said shortly, becoming disgusted. Politics involved a thousand shades of grey, whereas he preferred things in simple white and black. Panaka was a man that could trust individuals and faces, not causes, ideas, or even worse, factions. The Queen he loved and trusted. Senator Palpatine was a true man of Naboo that could be relied on. But beyond that? He had little love for the whole subject of politics, even if his job engulfed him in it, and it made him sad that even the Jedi were infected with the disease. On further reflection, he guessed that being based on Coruscant probably made that unavoidable. Coruscant was politics.

"I'm not overly concerned," Kenobi continued. "I will be promoted when I am promoted."

This didn't sit right with Panaka. "Being held back on account of another doesn't bother you?" he demanded. "I'd say you have every right to be angry."

Kenobi laughed. "Hmm, you said yourself that you're a man of Naboo. Well, I'm a Jedi. What the council has to say has little bearing on who and what I am. Knight is merely a title, and being a Padawan does not stop me from serving the Order or the people of the galaxy."

Panaka stared hard at Kenobi, newfound respect growing in him for the younger man. The aloof attitude he had interpreted as pride and arrogance was something very different. It was devotion and discipline to his cause. Panaka smiled. Perhaps Kenobi wasn't so different than himself as he thought. Panaka knew he wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with on account of his duties.

But Kenobi was something more. Here was a man who was most certainly being wronged by his elders on account of his master, and yet he was at peace with this, unconcerned and without ambition for himself. This lack of prideful ambition was a mark of humility. Somewhere under the severe exterior was a humble man. And humility, Panaka thought, would probably be of utmost importance where the Jedi's seemingly magical powers were concerned.

"Well, I hope you're right, and I for one hope you get what you deserve," Panaka said feeling it was time to change the subject. "Let's just hope your master can get us out of this mess and all you and I have to do is stare at empty monitors. I'd like to be off this filthy rock."

"Yes, that would be nice. When we leave this dreadful planet, I assure you, I will not be coming back," Kenobi said with a smile.

"That makes two of us." A light started flashing on the board. Panaka glanced at it and frowned. "Speaking of this planet, I think it's listening to us; the weather is taking a turn for the worse."

"Oh?"

"Winds picking up. Possible dust storm brewing." Panaka checked the monitors one more time.

"Lovely," Kenobi said, voice rife with sarcasm. "This day just keeps getting better. Come on, let's head out and take a look."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ This little story was really tricky to come up with, and I'm not sure it works quite as well as the others. I wanted to write from Captain Panaka's POV because I kind of liked him in Episode I and I feel he's a somewhat tragic character when you take his whole life story into account. He was a loyal man of Naboo for the rest of his life, and it got him into some trouble once the Empire took over. I won't spoil more, because this is from a somewhat recent novel, _Leia: Princess of Alderaan._

No, the real trick was coming up with some way to make Obi-Wan and Panaka relate and interact. The Man of Naboo idea really helped lock my idea in because Obi-Wan was similar in that aspect. He was the model Jedi, till the end. Also, Obi-Wan and Panaka are both pretty cranky in most of the Phantom Menace. Panaka is basically having the worst week on the job in his life, so that's kind of understandable, but I was surprised at just how stiff Obi-Wan was for most of the Phantom Menace. So I tried to find yet another point in this for these two to relate.

Cheers, and let me know what you think! Has anyone else seen a Panaka POV story? (Honestly curious about that. He can't be too popular...)


	5. Valiant: Qui-Gon Jinn

_**Author's Note:**_ While most stories will have unique voices, a few of the most important people in Obi-Wan's life will get two chances to speak. Qui-Gon is certainly one of those people.

* * *

 _ **Valiant: Qui-Gon Jinn  
32 BBY: During Invasion of Naboo  
Obi-Wan Age: 25**_

Qui-Gon Jinn knew the moment he made the fatal mistake. He had left an opening for the Sith and then reacted slowly. The hilt bash to the face left Qui-Gon stunned and senseless, and he knew what followed. As the saber stabbed through his abdomen, Qui-Gon dimly thought that it hurt far less than he would have imagined, probably because the heat of the saber destroyed so many nerve endings that he simply could not feel the pain.

He slumped to the floor in shock. The Jedi order had countless stories of Masters that had foreseen their own death and went nobly to face their end. Qui-Gon had foreseen nothing of the sort, and a cold fear gripped his calm mind as he slid to the ground. This… This wasn't right, wasn't the way it was supposed to be, he thought as he lay on the cold metal floor of the chamber.

No, this was not the way it was supposed to happen. The dark side had twisted the flow of history into a nightmare of its own making. It was not a coincidence that they had discovered Anakin right as the Sith reemerged from their millennium of hiding. The Chosen One, a boy, conceived by the Force to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force. Qui-Gon had felt sure that the Force had intended him to train him, to… If the Sith destroyed Anakin then was all hope lost? Had the dark side already woven the webs that led to its victory?

Qui-Gon would have laughed bitterly if he was able to. All his life he had been a student of the Living Force. This emphasis on feeling the world around him, the Force within all living things that fed into the Cosmic Force at death, was the very thing that put him at odds with the traditional teachings of the Jedi, that put him at odds with the council. Now here at his death, he was trying to peel back the veil of the future to see the will of the Cosmic Force and understand his place in the grand tale. A bitter irony, indeed.

Qui-Gon stretched his senses outward in an attempt to see what the Force would tell him. He wasn't interested in the Sith. The creature knew only hate; if Obi-Wan did not destroy it here and now, it would destroy itself on some later day. That was the way of the dark side.

No, the dying Jedi Master focused all his attention on Obi-Wan. The Padawan was a turmoil of emotions, grief, anger, and fear. He fought to place these under his control. The fear he quelled almost immediately, for Obi-Wan knew he was well trained and prepared for this moment. The grief he fought back with an effort, there would be time for that later. The anger…?

Qui-Gon noticed that Obi-Wan did not even attempt to place aside his anger. The dark side rose up around Obi-Wan in that moment, eager and in anticipation. But Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan and knew that his Padawan would not heed its call. The Master had taught his apprentice what all Jedi knew, that anger led to the dark side. But Qui-Gon had also taught him something the council would not have approved of: that anger was _not_ the dark side, and that anger could be righteous. And Obi-Wan did not let his anger push him into hatred, not even of this Sith who had so cruelly cut down his Master.

In so doing, Obi-Wan rejected the dark side completely and utterly, and Qui-Gon knew that it would never again be a temptation to him. Obi-Wan would walk in the light until the end of his days. May the Force be with you Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon thought to him. This will be your great trial. May you emerge from this crucible the Jedi Knight you are destined to be.

The shield deactivated, and Obi-Wan exploded out of the passage like an eager Fathier. He closed on the Sith in the blink of an eye, and they danced a deadly duet. The walls of the chamber reverberated with the crash of their sabers. Blue and red flashed at the edges of his vision, but Qui-Gon closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, willing his heart rate to follow. He knew he must save his strength, hold on long enough to speak to Obi-Wan one last time should he prevail.

With a sudden move, Obi-Wan cleaved the blade of his foe in two, negating the Sith's biggest advantage. Be wary Obi-Wan. You have not wholly defanged your opponent, Qui-Gon thought at his apprentice. But it was too late, as the Sith used the Force to throw Obi-Wan into the shaft. For a brief moment, Qui-Gon despaired and gave up hope. For himself, for Obi-Wan, for the Galaxy itself. The Sith would rise and cover all worlds in darkness, and there would be no more light.

But Qui-Gon knew this could not happen, would not happen. For a prophecy _must_ come true, and he knew that the Sith _must_ be destroyed. Anakin was the chosen one, of this he had no more doubts. And if Qui-Gon could not train him, then the task would fall to Obi-Wan. This then was Obi-Wan's great purpose, the grand destiny that the Force had chosen him for. He would fulfill his purpose so that ultimately Anakin would fulfill his. As Qui-Gon thought this very thing, Obi-Wan came out of the shaft like a blaster bolt and struck down the Sith.

Qui-Gon thought of the creature no more, for his own end had arrived. He was lifted, cradled in Obi-Wan's arms. "It's… It's too late… It's…" Qui-Gon struggled to get his words out. There was so little time left and so much that he wished he could say to his apprentice. Qui-Gon knew that they would speak again, for he trusted his consciousness would endure within the Cosmic Force. For this he had been trained. But it would be many years before Obi-Wan would learn to listen and hear his voice again.

If he had more time, he might say that he was proud of him. That he loved Obi-Wan as a son. That Obi-Wan was valiant as the greatest heroes of the Order. Qui-Gon might confer on him the title of Knight, regardless of the Council, for this has been his trial. But he had no time left in this world, and so he said none of these things.

"No…" Obi-Wan said softly, mournfully.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon gasped. "Promise me you will train the boy." This was the most important thing, the one thing that had to happen. This was what Qui-Gon chose his last words to reaffirm

"Yes, Master," his apprentice replied as Qui-Gon reached up to touch his face.

"He is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon continued. "He will bring balance." Obi-Wan nodded, but Qui-Gon's eyes no longer saw him as the darkness closed over his vision. "Train him." His last worldly sensation was Obi-Wan's forehead pressed against his own and warm tears splashing on his face.

But Qui-Gon opened the eyes of his soul to a new reality, where there was no more death and pain. Here there was peace and rest, and for a moment he nearly lost himself and his identity into the grand whole, the warm light of the universe. With great effort, he kept his mind and his self. Then his weary soul rested, and it would be long before he would rouse himself from the endless river of the Force he had awoken in.

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** I hope you enjoyed this final perspective from Qui-Gon. The next chapter may be a few days off as I need to read up on a certain character. This character has NO spoken lines in film or animation. From that perspective, this may be the most obscure character I use for this piece. Any guesses who it will be?

Also happy 10th Anniversary TODAY to my wife who happens to be my editor! I would have many more mistakes and errors if she didn't comb every chapter I publish!


	6. Defiance: Depa Billaba

**_Author's Note:_** This takes place near the end of TPM right before the scene with Yoda and Obi-Wan. There's a lot to talk about with this one so expect a long note at the end.  
Also to Judge1946, it's not R2, but that wasn't a terrible guess. Don't worry, he'll have a chapter later, in the place I think I can give it the most impact.

* * *

 ** _Defiance: Depa Billaba  
_** ** _25 BBY: After the Invasion of Naboo  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 25_**

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood in the middle of the room that the Naboo had loaned to the Jedi Council. He stood, supposedly, at ease his hands behind his back, eyes closed. But Depa Billaba could see the tension, the… defiance in his posture. Muscles on the back of his neck remained clenched, his face drawn.

"I will train Anakin to be a Jedi. I will honor the wishes of my Master." Depa noted the absolute confidence in his voice as if he stated a thing that would happen regardless of opposition.

Knowing the council, she wasn't so sure. She closed her eyes momentarily. Depa always felt a twinge of guilt when she was around Obi-Wan, though that wasn't so common these days. Though he was only slightly younger than herself, he remained a Padawan, and she…?

She sat on the Council. The one thing she had learned since being given the seat a year ago, was that the council was full of politics. Quiet politics that an outsider would miss, but they were present regardless. And her old master Mace Windu sat in the middle of many of those webs. How else had she been given a seat at so young an age? Depa had little doubt that there were better-suited Jedi, with more experience, more power, and greater wisdom that could serve the order in a greater capacity than she could at this stage in her life. In a decade? Perhaps.

But not now. Now she merely filled a seat that rightly should have belonged to another: Qui-Gon. Depa had ears to hear and knew who had loose lips. The council had apparently debated between offering the seat to Qui-Gon Jinn, a seasoned master, wise to the Galaxy and the Force and Depa, a knight for only a few years. Qui-Gon believed the wrong things, said the wrong things, and criticized the wrong people. And so she was made a Master at a ridiculously young age and appointed to the seat as a sleight to Qui-Gon. Worse she feared that her appointment was because her young age and inexperience would make her agreeable to certain parties. Always politics.

And so Depa decided that she would be her own woman. She would serve the Order and make her own choices, and the first of those choices had been to learn the wisdom of Qui-Gon Jinn. She didn't agree with all his views, but many of them made her take pause, made her question the Order and the very Council she sat on. The wisdom of Qui-Gon Jinn had taught her to think for herself.

As a result, she and Master Windu were no longer on, what Depa would call, good terms. When he passed her in the halls of the temple with barely a nod, it ached in her heart. After all the years she had spent with him, this was insufferable treatment. It was... Wrong.

She had grown to be jealous of Obi-Wan, his master, and the relationship he had with him. And she began to feel great shame at what the council did to Obi-Wan. There was no reason for him to be a Padawan still. In fact, Depa knew that he should have been given the trials years ago. And yet peaceful, obedient Obi-wan accepted it without a word. Depa didn't know if it was from humility or timidity, but he accepted the punishment doled out to him for having the wrong Master, the Master who dared to question the Council.

Now they would have no choice but to confer on him the rank of Knight. For a Padawan had slain a Sith Lord, the first encountered by the order in a thousand years. Depa smiled to herself; let the Council squirm out of this one, she thought grimly. As she listened to Obi-wan's bold declaration, she heard the defiance of Qui-Gon in him. The quiet Obi-Wan who never rocked the boat, or sought out his own advancement, declared that he would train this… slave boy, despite not yet being knighted.

Mace Windu answered Obi-Wan. "A Padawan cannot take on a Padawan, Kenobi. You know that what you seek is impossible." Depa felt her blood begin to boil but didn't speak. She knew her own voice held little sway in this assembly and would wait until the proper moment to use it.

"Hmm, well perhaps we are having the wrong conversation," Ki-Adi-Mundi said gently stroking his beard. "I propose we speak not of Anakin yet, but of Obi-wan."

"Yes indeed," Adi Gallia nodded. I think we would all agree that it is time to right a wrong that all in this room have been complicit in. Do we not all agree that Obi-Wan Kenobi is deserving of the title of Knight."

There was a murmur of agreement through the room, and Depa silently cheered. She looked at Master Windu, knowing that the only possible source of dissent would be her old Master and his adherence to tradition. There was a tense silence, as the room waited to hear if Master Windu would speak. After a moment's consideration, he obliged them. "It would be irregular, but it is not without precedent for the Trials to be bypassed when a deed worthy of great honor has been accomplished."

"The slaying of a Sith Lord, worthy perhaps, it is." Master Yoda mused. "What say you for yourself, Obi-Wan? See yourself as worthy of the title of Knight?"

Obi-Wan stood silently, his stance unchanged since his previous declaration. "I do not declare myself worthy, for that is the Council's decision. I have told you the full account of the deeds of my Master and of myself. How we have protected the Queen, aided her people, and gave battle to a Lord of the Sith. My Master has fallen, and I remain. If these deeds are worthy of Knighthood then so be it." Depa noticed now that the tension had left Obi-Wan; defiance may be new to him, but humility was not.

"And it was you that slew this Sith Lord, the first encountered by our order in a millennium?" Master Windu asked carefully. This annoyed Depa. Of course, this was what happened. Qui-Gon Jinn was dead. Who else would have killed the sith?

Obi-Wan apparently chose not to take this as an insult and smiled, a small dry smile. "If cutting him in half counts as killing him, then yes, I have slain a Sith Lord." Depa noticed that some of the Masters on the Council smiled and some didn't. She tried to make mental notes on who had reacted which way.

After a moment of silence Master Yoda looked around the chamber and nodded. "In agreement, we are, for no dissent I hear. Obi-Wan. Kneel before the Council," the ancient master said as he walked to Obi-Wan. The Council all rose from their seats to stand in ceremony even as Obi-Wan obeyed. Depa was unable to keep herself from smiling, even in this solemn moment; a wrong was, at last, being made right.

Master Yoda ignited his green lightsaber and then moved the saber slowly as if to tap each shoulder, then the top of Obi-Wan's head. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, you may rise, Knight of the Jedi Order."

Obi-Wan stood as Master Yoda returned to his seat. "Thank you, Masters." the freshly appointed Knight nodded solemnly.

"It is well deserved; you have overcome much," Master Piell said, his voice gruff.

"Now," Obi-Wan smiled, "About Anakin, I believe Master Windu's objection is no longer relevant. Will you allow me to take Anakin as my Padawan or must I do so against your will?" There was a stunned silence as he made this declaration, and Depa was impressed. For a group so used to hearing itself talk, to see them so awestruck at the defiance of one Knight was unusual.

Finally, Ki-Adi-Mundi chuckled lightly, and every eye in the room turned to him. "Should we have expected any less from a Knight trained by Qui-Gon? The legacy of our late friend lives on in his apprentice, and perhaps this is not a bad thing."

Depa felt her heart rise; if Ki-Adi-Mundi was willing to support Obi-Wan, then she felt sure others would follow suit.

Master Yoda smoothed the rough wispy hair on his head, as he was wont to do when annoyed. "Leave us, Obi-Wan, Discuss this in private, the Council must. We will summon you."

Obi-Wan bowed and left the room. Depa looked around the room at each of the masters and knew her time to act had come. "I propose we allow Obi-Wan to take Anakin as his Padawan."

Every head in the room turned to her, perhaps surprised that the youngest member of the Council had chosen to speak first. "I can see no reason to deny him this, and I see no reason to deny Qui-Gon his dying wishes. Indeed," she said and gave a crooked smile, "I believe this council owes both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan this much."

More silence as the Council was not used to being accused by one of its own. Finally, Master Plo Koon broke it with his deep and resonant voice. "You have spoken what many of us have long thought, Master Billaba, but none dared to say."

Depa continued before anyone else could speak. "This Council wronged Qui-Gon in his life by persecuting him for doing what he believed was right," She paused briefly, then continued her assault. "It denied him a rightfully earned seat on this Council and gave it to one who had not yet earned that right. I have no delusions of grandeur about my own valor and rank, and I know that Qui-Gon deserved this seat. But I will use the authority and voice of this seat to right that wrong. Let us honor Qui-Gon's dying wish."

There was another stunned silence. Mace Windu leaned forward in his seat, and Depa prepared for a scathing rebuttal from her master. "I won't deny any of what you've said. Such would be an exercise in futility and would dishonor our fallen friend." Depa raised her brow in surprise; perhaps she still held more sway with Master Windu than she realized. He continued. "But there is more at stake here than the wishes of Qui-Gon Jinn. Is Obi-wan ready to train a Padawan, one as unique as Anakin would be? Should Anakin even be trained?"

Depa replied quickly having already prepared answers in her mind. "Of course Obi-Wan is capable of taking a Padawan. He has slain a Sith Lord. Indeed, his deeds of valor now outweigh most of those present." Depa heard a few chuckles from around the room. "And as for Anakin, I see Obi-Wan as the perfect Master for him. Obi-Wan is the very model of a Jedi. Humble, dedicated, and wise. But there is something else in him, something he displayed before this very Council."

Master Eeth Koth filled in the blank. "The defiance of Master Qui-Gon."

Depa nodded. "The defiance of Master Qui-Gon. But Qui-Gon was not merely rebellious; rather he was only insubordinate when he thought that he was doing what was good and right. This has passed to his student. Obi-Wan is the most loyal adherent to the code of any of the younger generation, myself included. But he will place what is right above the code." She looked at Master Windu and Yoda. "Is this not the very thing to teach Anakin if he is the Chosen One? To always do what is right?"

"The student of a non-traditional Jedi to train a non-traditional student," Master Rancisis said thoughtfully.

Master Windu sat back in his seat and put his hand to his chin. "I agree." Depa's eyes widened again, and she knew that she wasn't the only one in the room caught off guard by this. Master Windu continued. "The Force works in strange ways. Perhaps the wisdom of Qui-Gon, tempered by the level-headed tendencies of Obi-Wan, was meant to guide Anakin."

"Agree, I do not," Master Yoda countered, sharp and sudden. "The boy is dangerous. Much uncertainty there is in his future."

"And what of the Prophecy?" Plo Koon asked, turning to face Master Yoda. "The Sith have returned, and this boy whom Qui-Gon believed to be the Chosen One has appeared at the same time. If we do not train him or, worse, if the Sith find him first…?" The Kel Dor left the statement and its threat unanswered.

Master Yoda turned to Depa, his ancient eyes boring into her. "And what say you, Master Billaba, since it seems you have found your voice among us, at last."

Depa swallowed and thought for a moment. She had thought to challenge her old Master when she had spoken up. Instead, it appeared her opponent was the Grand Master of the Order. "As to prophecies, I care little. If it is a true prophecy, it will come true regardless of our actions. If Anakin is the chosen one, then he will destroy the Sith. If not? Then he is a powerful force-sensitive that we cannot ignore in an age where our ancient foes rise again. I trust in the wisdom of Qui-Gon to guide Obi-Wan. Let him train the boy."

Master Yoda sat back and sighed. "Influence among the younger generation, Qui-gon seems to have had. Stand alone in this, do I?" He looked around at the Council. When none answered, Master Yoda looked at Master Windu.

Master Windu nodded to his friend. "Let Obi-Wan train the boy."

The ancient master turned to stare out the window at the now setting sun. "Very well. Agree I do not, but acquiesce to the Council I will. Send Obi-Wan in. Speak to him alone, I will."

In her heart, Depa cheered, and as the Council began to file out of the room in preparation for Qui-Gon's funeral, she rushed from the room. Entering the marble hallway of the Theed Palace, she walked over to a window where Obi-Wan waited. He turned as she approached. A twinge of the old shame returned, over how the Council had treated Obi-Wan and his master. But Depa had done what she could to make amends. For her part, she hoped that Qui-Gon lived on in his apprentice, his wisdom, his teachings, and especially his defiance. The Order could use more plain moral sense in these days.

"Well, Master Depa," he said, a sly smile on his face. "Have my betters decided what my doom is to be?" There was a playfulness in his voice as if he already knew what had transpired in the Council. That unflappable confidence was something else he had picked up from Qui-Gon.

Depa nodded, wishing she could give him the good news, but knowing the news was not hers to give. "Master Yoda waits for you," she smiled and couldn't help but wink as well. He raised an eyebrow, nodded, and left to go see Yoda.

Depa stood alone at the window for a moment before she felt the familiar presence of another beside her, though not so familiar as it once was. "Thank you, Master Windu, for your support," she said simply.

He laughed softly. "You made a convincing case. It was my pleasure Master Billaba. Obi-Wan is not the only member of the younger generation to have benefited from the wisdom of Qui-Gon."

Depa continued to stare out the window. "And let us hope he is not the last."

* * *

 _ **End of Act 1: The Padawan**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ This completes the first overall arc of Obi-Wan's life, his time with Qui-Gon as a Padawan. There is the least canonical material during this time of his life, so I've done a lot of reading between the lines and extrapolating. And quite a bit here in the end with Depa.

When I first decided to use Depa Billaba as the voice for this story, I did so merely because of her connection to Rebels and Kanan. As I did more research, I was pretty floored by how appropriate she was for this story and the overall arc. For starters, she wasn't afraid to question the Council, and this worked perfectly with the history of Qui-Gon. But then I discovered something strange. In truth, I discovered what is most likely a continuity error that I was able to work into the story. Mace Windu is only 40 years old during Phantom Menace. 40 years old and yet somehow he has a former student on the Council. Which means she must be in her mid to upper 20's, barely older than Obi-Wan at the oldest. And yet she is on the Council while he remains a Padawan.

I do not doubt that this is an error. When Depa was first named the Padawan of Windu, I doubt the author of that novel bothered to check Windu's age to see if it worked.

Unfortunately, it remains in Canon, so I worked with the idea that Depa had been given the Council seat to sleight Qui-Gon. Not one to disempower a character like, that I decided that she needed to be the one to convince the council into letting Obi-Wan train Anakin. And so in my story, Depa found her voice on the Council, despite being a victim of its politics and the Defiance of Qui-Gon lived on not only in Obi-Wan but also in Depa Billaba.

We're now going to be moving on into Kenobi's career as a Knight of the Order. I have a lot more material to work with here, so I won't have to reach as deep to write my stories! I hope you're still enjoying this thing. Please let me know what you think!


	7. Fun: Anakin Skywalker

_**Author's Note:**_ I'm sorry if you got two emails about this chapter. Something... Broke the first time and it published an old version of the doc. I have NO idea why. I hope you didn't read the one without the Author's note, because if you did you got an old version that hadn't been fully edited.

Moving on...

I have made the horrible discovery that I don't really like writing Anakin. Anakin was given a strange and stiff voice by George Lucas in the prequels. Some of this was intentional, trying to match Vader's somewhat formal speech patterns and some of this is probably the result of less than perfect writing. I've tried to partially replicate it here while also making Anakin younger than in AotC and I'm not sure I've been entirely successful.

To compensate, this story will have a bit more action and adventure to it.  
I hope you enjoy

* * *

 ** _Act 2: Knight of the Republic_**

* * *

 ** _Fun: Anakin Skywalker_**

 ** _26 BBY_**  
 ** _Obi-Wan Age: 31_**  
 ** _Anakin Age: 15_**

Anakin grunted as he picked himself up off the floor, having been bested yet again by Yoda, and looked around for his lightsaber. The diminutive master called both his staff and the missing lightsaber to his outstretched hands. Anakin noticed how the Master seemed to collapse in on himself after the fight, suddenly needing his cane again, and wondered why he even bothered with it if the Force could supply him the mobility he needed.

Yoda extended the lightsaber to Anakin. "Better you are doing, yet much to learn, you have. Powerful you are and quick, young Anakin. But learn to think you must. Learn to be more clever than your opponent. You cannot win on strength alone. Always a stronger opponent there is. Then, only will your mind save you, Anakin."

"Yes Master," Anakin said dutifully. To himself, he thought that if one actually was the most powerful, then Yoda's point was kind of useless. Afterall, who was more powerful than Yoda?

"Well, Padawan, did you defeat Master Yoda yet?" Obi-Wan walked into the room, a smile on his face.

Anakin laughed, he hadn't seen Obi-Wan in nearly a month. It turned out that Anakin's training was anything but traditional. Starting so late, and having never been a youngling or initiate, he had received intensive private instruction from the greatest masters of the order. Saber practice with Yoda, academic lessons with Jocasta Nu, meditation sessions with Plo-Koon, lectures on the code from Ki-Adi Mundi and more. This last was the worst in Anakin's mind, as Master Mundi was possibly the most boring sentient on Coruscant. All of this was on top of the usual Padawan duties with Obi-Wan.

Unfortunately, some dangerous business had called Obi-Wan off Coruscant recently. "Undercover detective work," his master had explained simply. "It's not really something I can take you along for."

"Surely there's another master that can deal with it?" Anakin had practically whined before Obi-Wan left. "Like Master Quinlan Vos. That's kind of his thing isn't it?"

Obi-Wan had chuckled. "Well yes, but I'm rather uniquely suited for dealing with this group. I have a bit of history with them, after all."

And that was that. Anakin's training had gone on in the temple without Obi-Wan. For a few days, it had been fun, being out from under his Master's thumb. He might have snuck out of his room to roam the temple grounds on more than one late night only because he knew he could get away with it. But the fun had worn off rather quickly and boredom set in, followed by Anakin starting to miss his master. They had hardly been parted for more than a day or two since Naboo.

Life was just boring without Obi-Wan. His master's sharp, sarcastic sense of humor was a never-ending source of entertainment as the two would banter back and forth like brothers. And compared to Obi-Wan, the other Masters were a bit… Anakin could think of several words that fit, but none of them were polite. Stiff, dry, and dull.

Anakin smiled as he turned to his Master. "Well, I didn't beat him this time, but it's only a matter of time. Don't you think, Master Yoda?" Anakin hoped desperately that Yoda would realize this was a joke and not actual boasting.

He shouldn't have worried. Yoda tilted his head to the side and reignited his lightsaber. "Beat you again, I will. Go easy this time, I will not. Send you back to your master like a scared youngling."

"That's… That's okay. I don't feel like dying today," the Padawan laughed. "Obi-Wan have you come to rescue me from saber practice."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. In fact, I would take great pleasure in watching the Grand Master of the Order put my Padawan in his place." He smiled and bowed to Yoda. "Thank you, Master, for overseeing my most unruly Padawan in my absence."

Yoda extinguished his Saber and nodded to Obi-Wan. "It was my pleasure. Find your prey, did you?"

"Yes, actually, and I was wondering if perhaps my Padawan would like to take a bit of a trip. I suspect he may have more fun busting gangsters than training at the temple."

One side of Anakin's mouth tugged upward into a smile. "Why Master, it's almost like you know me. Where are we going? I'm flying."

"First, yes, I know you well, and I'm starting to regret that you picked up my sense of humor. Second, Ruusan, Mid-Rim, we'll talk about it on the way. Third, of course, you're flying. There has to be some benefit to having _you_ for a Padawan. Let's go." Obi-Wan turned to Yoda. "Master with your leave."

Yoda nodded and gestured to the door.

As the Master and Padawan walked down the hallway towards the hangars, Anakin's curiosity got the best of him. "So are you going to tell me what this is about or do I have to start guessing."

"Depends on how good a guesser you are I suppose?" Obi-wan shrugged. The orange light of Coruscant's sunset filtered through tall windows into the Temple casting them in a warm glow.

"Well, you've been undercover..." Anakin started to say, then smiled. "Obviously you need my help taking down some gang that's too much for an old man like you to handle."

"Ha. In your dreams Anakin. No this isn't the first time I've brought down this crime lord. Over a decade ago Qui-Gon and I took down the whole organization. Slavers. Disgusting operation."

Anakin swallowed and tried to ignore the uncomfortable topic or think about his mother. He still hadn't figured out how to reconcile his feelings for his mother with the Jedi Code, and he wasn't sure that he ever would. "Apparently you didn't do all that good a job if they're back.."

"Hardly my fault," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. "Turns out the Azure Hammer was clever enough to stage a mass break out at the Republic Penal Colony on Kessel. One good side effect is, a life of hard labor seems to have kept him from going back into the slave business. Unfortunately, he's hardly moved to philanthropy. Now he's manufacturing deathsticks under the moniker of Golden Fist."

"Creative type I see. And he's moved from one type of slavery to another," Anakin mumbled, frustrated that such scum existed in the Republic.

"My thoughts exactly, and I thought you wouldn't mind the opportunity to head back into the field."

"Oh no, Master, I love endless private sessions with the other Masters," Anakin deadpanned. "Why would I ever wish to go out into the field and actually do something useful?"

Obi-Wan eyed Anakin for a moment. "You know, when I took you as a Padawan, I thought you were going to learn more from me than just sarcasm."

"Well, when you're given the opportunity to study under a Master…" Anakin said as innocently as he could. He kept a straight face for as long as he could before both he and Obi-Wan began to laugh. This sudden outburst in the peaceful halls of the temple gained them contemptuous glances from at least three Jedi Masters.

* * *

The next day on Ruusan, huddled in a dreary back alley of a barely pronounceable city, they went over the plan for what seemed like the hundredth time to Anakin. "Yes Master, I have it all down. It's not that complicated."

Obi-Wan sighed and scratched the goatee he had recently begun sporting. "Look Anakin, I don't mean to patronize, but these are very violent criminals. You're my responsibility, and I need to know your head is absolutely on straight today."

Anakin held up his hands defensively "I'll follow the plan. No improvising; I promise." Obi-Wan nodded, satisfied. Anakin continued. "I do think it's a bad idea to try and take them alive. This… Azure Hammer, Golden Fist… whatever he is, has escaped from Kessel. I mean, no one escapes from Kessel."

The older Jedi sighed. "Anakin, we're peacekeepers, not executioners. All we can do is turn criminals over to the proper authorities. We do not dispense justice ourselves."

"Wouldn't we be justified to do so here?" Anakin asked, honestly curious. "These are murderers and ex-slavers, manufacturing deathsticks of all things."

"In this case? Perhaps. No one would question a dead drug lord. But most cases are not so clear. Slopes can be slippery and bad precedents can be set." Obi-Wan looked at his Padawan and folded his hands together behind his back. "Anakin, the Order operates the way it does for a reason; it is to protect both the public and ourselves from Jedi abusing their authority and power."

Anakin thought about this for a moment. "I understand," he said nodding. And in truth he did, though he wasn't necessarily happy about it in this case. "Better to do our job and remain above reproach than lose our place of influence by going too far."

Obi-Wan smiled, pleased with Anakin's answer. "Precisely. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time we begin our little operation. I'll wait for your signal." And with that Obi-Wan pulled his hood over his head and walked off down the rainy alleyway.

Anakin watched him go before leaving in the other direction, thinking to himself for the thousandth time how glad he was he'd ended up as Obi-Wan's Padawan. He'd talked to other Padawans. He knew how strict the other Masters could be. Obi-Wan was strict too, naturally, but in a different way. Obi-Wan allowed Anakin to question things. It wasn't enough that Anakin knew what the code was, but that he understood it. And if asking questions helped Anakin understand why things were the way they were, well that was fine with Obi-Wan.

The Padawan refocused himself on the mission ahead. It was a simple operation. Obi-Wan would go ahead and take out the roof guards on the warehouse they were about to raid, while Anakin would creep around the perimeter and place their specialty smoke grenades in the air recyclers. When he was finished, he'd signal Obi-Wan, and the fun would begin.

The first part took only a few minutes. Hitting up the air recyclers at each corner of the building and planting the smoke grenade was child's play. He didn't see any guards or any sign of his Master, so clearly Obi-Wan had been successful with his task. Anakin primed the last grenade in the outgoing ventilation shaft and replaced the cover. Now he just needed to get into position. Somewhere on this side of the building there was supposed to be… Ah, there it was.

Anakin smiled and rolled his eyes. There was the garbage shaft that Obi-Wan insisted was the best ground level entrance for Anakin to take. Thankfully he wouldn't have to smell it. Much. He pulled a breather out of his robe and placed it over his face. He wouldn't smell it now, but he would later when he took this thing off.

Grimacing, he pushed his way through the garbage and then wriggled upward through the shaft. Judging from the slimy texture, he knew he was going to look awful and smell worse on the other side. After a few meters, he finally dragged himself out of the shaft into some sort of dumpster. Calming his mind, he stretched out his senses to feel the world around him. No one in his immediate area and Obi-Wan far above him on the roof. Perfect. Anakin pulled out his transmitter and sent the signal to Obi-Wan. He waited a few seconds for the return signal to go ahead. The transmitter lit green. "Here we go," Anakin whispered to himself and flipped a switch on the detonator.

It took nearly a minute before there was any reaction. By the time he heard shouting, it was too late, and thick smoke was billowing out of the ventilation. Reaching outward one more time, Anakin sensed no one in his immediate area and slipped out of the dumpster, quickly pulling off his breather. His face wrinkled immediately from the stench radiating off himself. Lovely he thought.

Anakin ducked quickly into some crates and glanced towards the ceiling. The smoke was trailing upward rapidly leaving the bottom half of the warehouse clear. There were confused mutterings from a few of the gangsters as they pointed at the rafters. They seemed to think that whoever had planted the smoke had used the wrong kind; what good is a smoke grenade if all it's smoke floats up to the ceiling?

Suddenly Anakin heard Obi-Wan's voice project loud and clear over the warehouse. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the gangster formerly known as Azure Hammer, though I hear lately he has been calling himself Golden Fist. Honestly, with such an unoriginal naming system I'd expect you'll soon be Crimson Sword or some other nonsense." The voice came from the smoke-shrouded catwalks high above the floor of the warehouse.

"Well you've found me," a booming voice bellowed. "What is it you want? Your theatrics are amusing enough that I may not have my men kill you. Maybe. Depends on your answer."

Anakin tried to get a lock on the voice. With the gangsters distracted, he began to slip through the rows of crates towards where he thought he had heard the Devaronian yelling from.

"Oh, I think you know why I'm here." Obi-Wan's voice came from a different part of the rafters. "After all, I sent you to Kessel a decade ago. Maybe I'm not the best at counting, but I don't think you've served the three centuries of work you were sentenced too," Obi-Wan stalled, letting the Padawan get as close to the gangster as he could

"Hmmph. One of the Jedi then. I'd guess the young one all grown up. Vermin. I think I'll just have my men start shooting into the smoke and hope they get lucky."

"That's actually a terrible idea. You see, the second one of your men takes a shot, you lose your chance to just surrender peacefully."

Anakin was behind the Devaronian now. He was surrounded by a group of about six of his men, all heavily armed and staring up trying to lay eyes on Obi-Wan. Anakin smiled to himself. This was too easy, like a tooka chasing after a hand-light.

"Look Jedi, you know that's not happening," the Azure Hammer said, starting to sound bored. "Come down, and let's get this over with." He motioned to his men who started to spread out. "You've got ten seconds before my men open fire. Ten."

Obi-Wan only laughed. "I told you. Firing is a bad idea."

"Five"

Anakin prepared himself for action, breathing in deeply and taking his lightsaber in hand.

The voice from above only laughed again. "Your mistake."

"Three, Two, One, Fire!" The gangsters all opened fire at where they thought they had heard Obi-Wan's voice. The moment the blaster fire hit the smoke, it dropped rapidly towards the floor leaving the ceiling free and the bottom level embroiled in the thick mixture. Anakin smiled and shook his head. He didn't know where Obi-Wan had found these specialty smoke grenades, but it was definitely a neat trick. Usually lighter than standard atmospheric pressure, the smoke needed only a catalyst to begin combining with free oxygen in the air. One blaster bolt was enough to catalyze a whole cloud of the stuff.

And make it denser than standard atmospheric pressure.

As it surrounded the Gangsters, Anakin heard the snap-hiss of Obi-Wan's lightsaber and briefly saw the glow as it dropped from above into the mire. There were shouts of confusion and occasionally blaster fire as Obi-Wan moved through the gangsters, slicing weapons apart and introducing faces to the stun knuckles he occasionally carried when he knew it would come to fisticuffs.

Anakin leaped to his feet and moved towards the dark shape he knew was the Devaronian. Two smaller forms, bodyguards, flanked him. Anakin opened his hand, and all three blasters flew in his direction. He managed to catch two of them with his saber as they passed him. He missed the third but knew it was unlikely to be found again in the fog. The shapes turned his direction, and Anakin jumped and landed a flying kick square in the chest of one of the bodyguards, a Rodian, and turned to point his lightsaber at the Devaronian.

The other bodyguard quickly lunged toward Anakin with a vibroblade he'd failed to notice. Anakin moved to slice it in half and was surprised when it stopped his blade cold with a strange electric pinging sound.

The Azure Hammer laughed a booming laugh. "Good tricks all around. You must be the runt. Always a runt tagging along with Jedi. We have our tricks too. Never seen a magnetically sealed vibroblade, huh?" He drew a vibroblade of his own. "Too bad your Master never warned you they existed." He lunged at Anakin. Anakin sidestepped past the blade and retreated back into the fog. No sense getting in over his head. The Force gave him an advantage in that he would be able to sense them in the haze but they would be half blind. The Devaronian and his bodyguard began to advance in his direction. Anakin let them take a few steps before leaping at the bodyguard, knocking away his vibroblade in a single sweep. Landing behind him he dropped low, sweeping the legs out from under his opponent. The thug fell hard on his back, the air leaving his lungs explosively; Anakin knew there wouldn't be any more fight left in that guy.

He turned back towards the Devaronian who was just beginning to round on him. Suddenly Obi-Wan dropped on him from above, disarming him and knocking him to the floor. The Devaronian tried to struggle to his feet and then pointed his horned head at Anakin and charged. With one swift swing of his saber, Obi-Wan ended the Azure Hammer for good.

Anakin exhaled slowly and extinguished his saber. "Well then. That solves the problem of sending him back to Kessel."

Obi-Wan looked down at the dead gangster and nodded grimly. "Yes, I suppose it does. What a waste." He pulled a handful of binders out from his robe and tossed some to Anakin. They set to work restraining the remaining thugs. "All in all, good operation, except for the fact that I had to take down the leader. I thought you would have dealt with him by the time I got here."

"Yes well, there were complications," Anakin said, snapping a binder around the wrists of one of the bodyguards.

"What sort of complications?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Magnetically sealed vibroblades. Didn't know about those." Anakin kicked one of the blades across the floor of the warehouse. It skidded to a stop at Obi-Wan's feet.

Obi-Wan stopped picked it up and inspected it. "Oh. Yes, those can be a bit of a problem can't they." He tossed it aside. "You did well Anakin. I'm proud of you."

Anakin ran a hand through his blond hair, smiling at the compliment "Thank you, Master. But for the record, I had it under control. I would have taken him down very shortly had you not intervened."

Obi-wan smiled and shrugged. "I know. You're very capable now, Anakin, and I'll try not to leave you behind at the temple anymore."

"Life is much more... Fun when you're around, Master. I don't think I can handle another month at the temple without you. It was..."

"Boring?" Obi-Wan filled in the blank, a playful smile crossing his face. "Why I would have thought you would have loved lectures on the Code by Master Ki-Adi Mundi. He can be so passionate about the most banal of points." They both laughed as they finished putting binders on the thugs and commed the Ruusan Security Police.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ Again I'm not sure I captured Anakin, thankfully, the format of this piece means I won't have to focus on him too much more. (Though I will have to come back to him at least one more time...)  
Hope you enjoyed this. I had fun referencing the previous Dexter story. I figured since we never got to see Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan take down The Azure Hammer, I'd let Obi-Wan and Anakin get another shot.

On one final side note my spell check was totally cool with the word Deathsticks. I laughed out loud at that discovery.


	8. Brilliant: Mace Windu

**_Author's Note:_** This piece will use quite a bit of old canon information about lightsaber Forms I-VII. Some of this info is starting to be recanonized. Some has not. I'm treating it all as valid, as I imagine most of it will be eventually. Regardless I now have to treat Mace Windu as a person instead of a villain like I did in the Depa Billaba piece... Yikes. Mace Windu really did represent a lot of what was wrong with the order though

* * *

 ** _Brilliant: Mace Windu  
_** ** _24 BBY: 2 Years before the Clone Wars  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 33_**

"You want to spar _me_?" Mace Windu asked, eyebrows raised. He eyed Obi-Wan thoughtfully. Obi-Wan was a talented Jedi, no doubt, and Mace even believed he'd end up with a council seat someday, but he knew Obi-Wan's strengths were not in his saber work.

Obi-Wan smiled, "Well yes that _is_ what I asked you. You're free to accept or decline as you like."

Mace did his best not to react to the legendary sarcasm of Obi-Wan, something that never failed to get under his skin. Mace, however, was good enough a Jedi to hide such petty feelings. He may have thought Obi-Wan was tiresome to converse with, and his Padawan even worse, but showing that irritation would have been unbecoming of his position. Emotion, yet Peace, he reminded himself. The Code held answers to even the little nuisances in life.

He forced himself to put on a pleasant smile. "I would be happy to spar with you Master Kenobi, but I can't help but feel you have a motive here."

"Ah yes, well I've been attempting to improve my lightsaber technique these last few years, and I thought I might put them to the test against a true swordsman."

"Oh, well then I'm looking forward to seeing what progress you've made," Mace said impressed. Obi-Wan may not have been pleasant company, but his dedication to improving his skills was legendary. His aptitude should have limited his potential, and yet Obi-Wan proved the old Jedi sayings about dedication true. "Might I ask what you've been working on, or is it supposed to be a surprise?"

"Hmmm…" Obi-Wan said, stroking his goatee. "Let's make it a surprise. Surely we'll both have more fun that way."

Mace smiled and shook his head. "Very well then. Shall we?" He stood from the meditation stool he had been seated on and gestured to the door.

* * *

A few minutes later they entered a training room together, and Mace shed his outer robe onto the floor. Mace watched as Obi-Wan did the same. "Any special instruction for this spar? Anything specific you want to test your technique against or should I treat this as a normal duel?"

Obi-Wan stretched his arms, loosening up before the fight. "Fight to win. We both know what the outcome will be, I'm just curious to see how well I fare."

"Very well." Mace bowed slightly and brandished his saber. It ignited with a snap-hiss and radiated a familiar purple glow. Mace brought his saber to a basic ready position. Obi-Wan ignited his own blue saber, smiled and…

Moved into the Form III ready position.

Of the seven classic lightsaber forms, Form III was undoubtedly the least suited for dueling. Each form had a philosophy that had guided their development, and these philosophies had guided their use and practice. Form III had been conceived as a defensive technique, meant to defend the wielder of the lightsaber against blaster fire from multiple angles. Against another saber, it was close to useless as far as Mace was concerned. He couldn't think of any possible reason Kenobi would be attempting a Form III opening against someone he knew was the more skilled duelist.

"Well, then," Mace said aloud. "That's certainly unorthodox."

Obi-wan chuckled. "Yes, perhaps. Humor me, then?"

"As you wish." Mace made the first move sticking to the extremely basic techniques of Form I. Obi-Wan had made him curious and suspicious, and Mace thought he would probe the defenses of the other cautiously at first. Obi-Wan easily countered all of the basic attacks Mace threw at him. Mace stepped back briefly then attempted a more advanced Form I technique, alternating low and high swipes at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan pushed the first sweep aside, ducked under the second, and locked the third. He used the lock to push a shoulder into Mace and force him back several steps. Obi-Wan at once resumed the Form III ready stance.

Mace wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be annoyed with Obi-Wan or amused by him. Returning to a ready stance mid fight was quite a cheeky insult. Very well, two could play at this game. Mace assumed a Form II ready stance, placing one hand behind his back, holding the saber vertically in front of his face. He knew that he was hardly the Master of the second Form, as that honor belonged solely to former Jedi Master Count Dooku. However, Mace had made lightsaber combat a field of study and refused to leave any Form untouched.

He advanced on Obi-Wan, one hand behind his back. Form II was specifically designed to duel other lightsaber wielders and should have no difficulty overwhelming a Form III user in any scenario. Focusing on footwork, Mace circled Obi-Wan and pressed towards him. The one-handed stance gave him less leverage, but greater maneuverability and he intended to use this.

Obi-Wan had to give ground immediately as Mace pressed into him, relentless and aggressive. Mace noticed that Obi-Wan, retreating from his position, seemed perfectly at ease, and chose his steps deliberately, always circling away from the wall, and never allowing himself to be pressured too closely. Mace frowned and intensified his assault, drawing on every bit of knowledge he had of Form II. Obi-Wan's blue blade sang in defense and always found his own purple blade, always pushed it away. Mace relented and backed away, seemingly defeated. He was confident that a Master of Form II would have cracked Obi-Wan's defenses, but Mace knew that he never would with his limited knowledge.

A sudden admiration for Obi-Wan began to form in the back of Mace's mind. Obi-Wan was clearly using a pure version of Form III, and yet it was more precise, faster, and more refined than any that Mace had ever seen. There were no wasted movements, no unnecessary actions. Everything was done to keep Obi-Wan's blade moving to meet Mace's. So this was what Obi-Wan had been working on. Fascinating.

Mace renewed his assault on Obi-Wan now in Form IV, the workhouse technique of many modern Jedi, including Yoda. This was more in Mace's comfort zone and allowed him to use his superior strength to put further pressure on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan seemed to follow the change in style and adjusted accordingly. He gave less ground and seemed more willing to lock blades with Mace. Mace pressed very hard in an attempt to see how far Obi-Wan's defense could hold. So far it held well, as Obi-Wan easily sidestepped or deflected attacks. Mace was confident he could overwhelm the other Jedi, given time and the right opening.

And then Mace realized he might not have that time. Form III was famous for conserving energy and being able to endure your enemies onslaught, and Obi-Wan didn't seem to be growing tired. Mace's eyes widened in surprise as he realized the other Jedi's plan. Obi-Wan had somehow taken a technique meant for defending against blasters and had honed it into something new, something meant to outlast a stronger more skilled enemy with a saber.

Very well, Obi-Wan, and very good, Mace thought with respect. But I have a reputation to maintain. Mace changed stance yet again to Form VII. As the Order's only practitioner of the technique, he knew that Obi-Wan would never have had the chance to practice against it. Let us see how you do against the unknown.

Obi-Wan struggled. Almost immediately he gave ground, but not in the controlled manner he had before. Now he took whatever backward step he could to keep out of the vortex of purple energy that Mace unleashed upon him. Mace caught him in a lock and pushed him backward, then took the opportunity to push into him again. Obi-Wan managed to deflect the blade, but this time he sacrificed his center of gravity to do so, and both of them knew the duel was decided. It took two more sweeps of Mace's blade before Obi-Wan's saber clattered across the hall of the training floor.

Mace disengaged his own lightsaber and tried to catch his breath. He was more winded than he would have liked to admit and Obi-Wan had been a far greater opponent than he would have imagined. "What in the name of the Republic was that?" he asked amazed.

"That," Obi-Wan said calling his saber back to himself, "was what I've spent the last few years working on." Mace stared at him, waiting for him to continue. "Qui-Gon was a master of Form IV, but the fight against Darth Maul went on for too long. His own technique was what killed him in the end, and as he grew tired the Sith broke through his defenses. If he could have endured just a little longer, then I could have joined him and we would have defeated our opponent together." Obi-wan walked away towards a window and gazed out at the cityscape of Coruscant. "I swore I would not repeat my Master's mistake. Form III is focused on defense against all odds, on being in the middle of the whirlwind of danger. It focuses on enduring until your opponent makes a mistake. With a few adjustments in its technique, a slight modification here, and an optimization of form and motion there, it becomes useful against a lightsaber wielding opponent."

Mace joined Obi-Wan at the window. "Perhaps, though it will not give you many openings to win a fight."

"No, it will not." Obi-Wan turned and looked at Mace, a sad look on his face. "But my fight with Darth Maul taught me one important lesson. Eventually, your opponent makes a mistake. Endure long enough, and your enemy will always give you an opening. Qui-Gon didn't last long enough to see that opening."

Mace was respectfully silent for a minute. The order had deeply missed Qui-Gon, even if he had been something of a loose blaster cannon in his life. Mace had come to suspect his opposition to the status quo may have been more important to the health of the Order than anyone realized.

Shaking aside these thoughts, he turned back to Obi-Wan. "But your mastery of Form III will allow you to outlast any opponent, allow you to wait for the opening," Mace mused.

"Yes, that's the idea," Obi-Wan said, thoughtful, "though I'm not sure I'm there yet. I have some ways to go, as our sparring session has shown me, but I wanted to see how my technique fared against one of the greatest swordsmen of the Order. Thank you, Master Windu, for the opportunity." He turned and left the training room without another word, leaving Mace alone.

Mace stared back out the window mulling over what he had seen and heard from Obi-Wan. His use of Form III was brilliant and possibly revolutionary to saber technique. Mace had little doubt that Obi-Wan was already the greatest living practitioner of the form, and possibly the greatest to ever live. Knowing Obi-Wan's dedication, if he weren't already there, he would be soon.

On further reflection, Mace realized that Obi-Wan's approach to form III was the epitome of the Jedi Code: defense at any cost, nonaggression until the very end. This was good and appropriate, Mace thought.

Perhaps Obi-Wan had a sharp tongue that he needed to learn to hold, and his Padawan was the most insufferable in a dozen generations of Padawans. But Obi-Wan himself was brilliant. Further, he was wise _and_ humble, a rare combination in Jedi these days. Most were one; very few were both. Yes, Obi-Wan would hold a place on the council. Within a few years probably. And he would deserve it too, more so than many that held seats even now.

Mace reignited his Saber and began working through various Form VII techniques. He hoped Obi-Wan would perfect Form III, that he became it's greatest practitioner in the history of the Order. But if Obi-Wan ever thought he was going to beat Mace Windu in a spar?

Mace laughed, a short, sharp sound. _That_ was _not_ going to happen any time soon. Not if Mace had _one_ thing to say about it.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ You know me this point. I can't leave well enough alone and have to explain and talk about my choices! This piece was a character study on Obi-Wan after all, so you're getting my commentary...

Obi-Wan mastering Form III to a ridiculous extent was old EU but I think it fits brilliantly still into canon. Having watched his Master die he swore he would become the master of a defensive form. This defensive form allowed him to eventually defeat the more powerful Anakin. He just had to outlast Anakin long enough. After all, he learned from Darth Maul that your enemy WILL mess up if you can just stay alive. And so Obi-Wan, who was not the most powerful blademaster, survived fights against Dooku, Grievous, Maul and Savage, Ventress, and Anakin. All because of his stubborn decision that he would defend and live to keep fighting.

I love it. And I hope you did too! Let me know what you think!

Also turns out someone else around these parts is doing something similar with Obi-Wan and multiple points of view. We both apparently had a panic moment thinking we were stealing an idea from someone, so go check Iamsecretlynots _Through My Eyes._ We have a rather different approach so hopefully, you'll enjoy it too.


	9. Bombad Friend: Jar Jar Binks

_**Bombad Friend: Jar Jar Binks  
**_ _ **22 BBY: During Attack of the Clones  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 35**_

Jar Jar Binks is an unusual creature, but contrary to popular belief he is not a fool. He knows that others laugh at him behind his back; the excellent hearing of the Gungans assures that he cannot escape this. He hears ever laugh, every snicker. And he remembers them.

But Jar Jar Binks is an unusual creature, and he chooses to ignore the ridicule heaped in his direction. He knows that it serves no purpose and will only make him sad. Jar Jar Binks, after all, only ever wants to make others happy, make them smile. Long ago on Naboo, he discovered that this was the one thing he loved, and something he was truly good at. The children of Otah Gunga had loved Jar Jar and he had loved entertaining them in the streets. Before his banishment, of course.

Since then? Jar Jar Bink's life hasn't been the same. Since meeting the Jedi his life has not been about making people smile, it has been about trying to make the galaxy a better place. Jar Jar knows that he has very little influence, and sometimes he wonders why he is even on Coruscant. On rare occasions, Padme asks his opinion on a matter and he will give it, for what little that is worth. He knows that he does very little to represent his people and that Padme does all the work. But Jar Jar does his best to serve Padme. He knows that if she does her job, then the galaxy will be safer.

Maybe someday he will go back to Naboo. Maybe someday he will make others smile again. But now Padme needs him and he will serve his Senator in any way he can. With the current dangers, Jar Jar knows that there is little he personally can do to protect her. He is no warrior, despite once being a bombad general. He shakes away this thought and the many past embarrassments this reminds him of. It is not in his nature to worry about what has already happened.

But it is in Jar Jar Bink's nature to be forgetful. The door to Padme's apartment chimes and he goes to open it. There before his very eyes are two of his oldest friends. He had been told to expect their arrival, but he had already forgotten that detail, like so many others.

But this surprise makes Jar Jar Binks happy. "Obi? Obi! Mesa so smilen to seein yousa!" He shakes the Jedi's hand with enthusiasm.

"Good to see you Jar Jar." Obi-Wan says. Jar Jar is surprised because he knows that Obi-Wan means it and there are not very many people that are happy to see Jar Jar.

He smiles as he sees little Ani, so big and grand now and turns to call Pame. "Senator Padme. Mesa palos Here! Lookie, Lookie, Senator. Desa Jedi arriven." They go about their business and ignore Jar Jar. This does not bother him; he knows that if he is the center of attention when this many are around, then he has most likely made a horrible mistake. They talk and Jar Jar listens; he has nothing to add that those wiser than him.

After the meeting is over, Jar Jar goes to speak to his old friend Ani. "Mesa busten wit happiness seein yousa again, Ani!" But Ani does not seem to care what Jar Jar thinks and laments that Padme did not give him the attention he desired.

Jar Jar Binks is an unusual creature, but he is not a fool, and he can read between the lines. And so Jar Jar does what he does best and tries to make Ani smile. "Shesa Happy. Happier Den Mesa Seein Her In A Longo Time." It works a little and with Obi's help Ani brightens up. Jar Jar thinks that this is good, and he is content to see his old friend happy again. This is what Jar Jar should be doing, not playing politics or whatever it was he was doing here on Coruscant

The afternoon passes uneventfully and while the Jedi go about seeing to security, Jar Jar carefully writes a report to the Bosses. Now he can communicate in pure Gunganeese without softening it for Basic speakers. Jar Jar will never be eloquent in any language, but he is fluent. He has finished describing the appearance of the Jedi and their security arrangements when he is interrupted by Obi-Wan.

"Hello, Jar Jar, I hope I'm not disturbing you," Obi-Wan says. His smile is comforting to Jar Jar. This too is a language he speaks.

"Oy no, no, Obi. Yousa meesa Palo." Jar Jar reassures the Jedi, and hopes that he will stay. "Dees un letter to da bosses. Meesa keep tem knowen about da Senator."

"I'm sure you do an excellent job representing your people," Obi-Wan says politely to the Gungan.

Jar Jar looks uncertain. "Well, my no know about dat. But meesa serve da senator wit all meesa have."

Obi regards the Gungan for a moment. Perhaps he sees through the fears and doubts of the Gungan. Perhaps he understands that the Gungan does not enjoy representing his people on Coruscant, but serves out of duty alone. Aloud he says, "Padme appreciates your loyalty. But if you wanted, I'm sure they'd allow you to return to Naboo. You've served admirably for many years now."

Jar Jar looks around nervously as if he does not want to be overheard. "My no like it here, dis yousa see right. But meesa has duty." He puffs his chest out proudly as he says this. "Meesa make galaxy safe with Padme. Isa gettin muy muy dangerous outa der. When isa safe, den Jar Jar be goin home. Den my goin back to Otah Gunga. Maken den boyos and girlies smile again. Dat will besa de end of meesa tello."

It is silent for a few moments as the Jedi considers the words of his Gungan friend. Finally, he speaks and says, "Jar Jar, you really are a remarkable creature. Take care of Padme and you'll be home to Otah Gunga in no time. Dark times are upon us, but the Senator will help you and your people through them."

Jar Jar nods. "My doin all dat Padme and da Chancellor asken of meesa. Meesa doin meesa part."

The Jedi smiles again and says, "Very good." He turns to leave and then stops at the door. When he turns he has a strange expression on his face that the Gungan does not know how to interpret. Obi scratches his beard and looks the Gungan in the eye. "On another note, I feel l need to ask your forgiveness."

Jar Jar is puzzled by this because Obi is one of the few non-Gungans that has always respected Jar Jar. When Jar Jar speaks, Obi listens. He could not ask any more of the Jedi.

Obi continues undeterred by the silent Gungan. "Once after I first met you, I... said something very insulting about you to Master Qui-Gon. I insinuated that you were a... miserable lifeform. I believe those are the words I used." He clears his throat. "I shouldn't have said that. I made snap judgments about you and I was wrong. Years later I know that. Will you forgive me?"

Jar Jar Binks is an unusual creature, but he is not a fool, and in this moment he looks at Obi and sees him for who he is. For many years Jar Jar has placed his Jedi friends on a pedestal, feeling they could do no wrong. Now, all he sees before him is a man, flawed and mortal, but honest and kind. Jar Jar sees someone who is a friend, someone against whom he could never hold a grudge.

Of course he forgives Obi; how can he not? "Oy Obi," Jar Jar says, "my forgive. My know meesa… different."

"Yes, well that's no excuse for what I said," the Jedi counters smoothly.

Jar Jar shrugs, an exaggerated and ridiculous gesture. "My forgive yousa."

Obi smiles warmly, and this, in turn, makes Jar Jar smile. "Well then, thank you, friend. I will leave you to your work." He departs, leaving a thoughtful Jar Jar alone.

Jar Jar sits quietly for a while and thinks about many things. He is thankful that he can help Padme in her duties, even though he does not enjoy it. He is thankful that the bosses trust him enough to send him to Coruscant, though he sometimes thinks that this trust has not been earned. But mostly he is thankful for his friend Obi. No, his _bombad friend_. Jar Jar does not have many of those, and each is a treasure worth cherishing.

He smiles. "Jedi Obi," he says to himself as he looks back at his report to the bosses, "Bombad palo."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ This was... a unique experience to write. Jar Jar IS a bit of a problem in Episode I. He's goofy weird, and on screen a little too much. HOWEVER I will argue until the end of time that he doesn't ruin the movie. He's not really that bad if you just roll with it. If 25-30% of Jar Jar had been left on the cutting room floor he would have been perfectly fine.

Spoiler ahead for Empire's End if you haven't read it.  
Jar Jar's life is pretty sad all around. He was used by Palpatine. Eventually, he goes home to Naboo where he seems to have been shunned by his own people. By the time of the OT he is seen living on the street as a clown, acting as a street performer for refugee children. I didn't make up the part about him loving to make children smile...

So with that in mind, I had to be kind to Jar Jar. I had to have him and 'Obi' have a good moment together. Obi-Wan by this period seems to be much more patient with others (except when Anakin is being... himself). So I wanted to show Obi-Wan coming to an understanding with everyone's least favorite Gungan.  
I hope you enjoyed this. Writing Jar Jar talk was unpleasant and I hope I never do it again :D


	10. Relentless: Jango Fett

_**Relentless: Jango Fett**_  
 _ **22 BBY: During Episode II**_  
 _ **Obi-Wan Age: 35**_

Well, that was a pity. She may not have exactly been a top tier asset, but Zam certainly had her uses. Unfortunately for her, that made the decision easier. If she had been top tier, she may have been worth saving, and saving her from the Jedi and extricating myself without being identified, well that would have been a real trick.

Still, the Jedi were impressive. Slipping a tracker on my subcontractors to monitor and assist as needed is just part of the job. And I got quite a show. The fact that the Kouhuns failed wasn't Zam's fault. Jedi and their damnable ability to sense danger are a very real threat in our line of work. That the Jedi managed to tail her though, that was the fatal mistake. I'm not sure I'll ever forget the image of Kenobi hanging from that ASN Courier Droid. The man is either insane or arrogant. Or else maybe the rumors of Jedi being able to see the future are true; no one would try a stunt like that unless they knew they would live.

Don't get me wrong; the Padawan was impressive too, but Kenobi was the show stealer. Using himself as bait in the bar was particularly bold. Zam falling for the obvious trap pretty much sealed her fate. She was good. But not good enough to save.

I don't expect I'll be seeing these Jedi again, but It's much more entertaining to leave them a parting gift. Of all the methods for removing Zam, I chose a dead end clue. A blaster shot to the head would have worked just as well, but a Kamino saberdart should give them fits, especially since Tyranus already deleted Kamino from their precious Archives. Let them figure that clue out.

* * *

Kenobi is smarter than I thought, and the saberdart may have been a mistake. Not a fatal mistake, but I couldn't help but feel a bit of apprehension when Prime Minister La Masu informed me a Jedi would be stopping by my quarters to meet with me. Fool, if he had given me more than a few seconds warning, I could have made a better show of things. As it was, I didn't even have time to hide my armor.

Look, I may not know the whole plan, and I know everyone that's part of this whole mess only knows their part. The Kaminoans know what they need to know, and I know what I need to know. I'm a businessman. I understand how it works. But La Masu should have known better than to send the Jedi to me. How Kenobi traced the origin of the saberdart to Kamino is beyond me. Must have good underworld connections. Now I have to hope that he bought the lies I sold him. He seemed to have played his part well and the Kaminoans think he's just here to inspect the goods.

 _My_ goods. The Clones that, well, I'll be honest, I'm rather proud of. If I were on a side, I'd root for them just out of principle. Blood being thicker than water and all. But the credits are flowing from the other side, and I won't be surprised if I have to kill a bit of my own flesh and blood before the end. Distasteful maybe, but part of the job.

Kenobi played his part but, he knew who I was. He knows I killed Zam; he knows I hired her to assassinate the senator. All because of that saberdart. Damnable pride got the best of me. There are lessons here that I'll have to teach to Boba once this is all over and we can debrief. Never let your pride get in the way of the job. Never underestimate your opponent. And never make an enemy of a Jedi. Especially not a good one, like Kenobi is looking to be.

We've gotta get out of here. I can't risk another confrontation with Kenobi. Boba and I will have to retreat to Geonosis. Kenobi finding the Clones at this stage complicates the plan significantly. Tyrannus needs to know, and I don't trust La Masu to be the one to give him the bad news.

* * *

This guy doesn't know when to give up. We almost made it away cleanly. But Kenobi showed back up on the landing pad. He's not the first Jedi I've fought and probably won't be the last, owing to my line of work. Kenobi is good; he's real good. In fact, only two things saved my hide.

The first is that the Jedi do their best not to kill their opponents. If you're going to fight a Jedi, keep that in mind. Odds are, they're going to try and disarm you. Maybe you lose a hand if you've made em particularly mad. Use their hesitance to wield lethal force against them, and you might just stand a chance. Having the right weaponry also helps too; I've yet to see a Jedi figure out how to deal with a flamethrower at close range.

The other thing that saved me was Boba. I've never been more proud of him than when he sent Kenobi scurrying like a sewer rat for cover. The cannons of the Slave I are a bit more firepower than even a Jedi are gonna want to stand up against at that range.

Still, it was a close shave. When Kenobi and I went over that edge, I felt a genuine spike of fear, like I haven't felt in ages. It was a wake-up call that I've been sloppy, that's for sure. There was a very real chance we would have both met a grisly end at the point. It's a good thing the knife on my gauntlet is beskar; otherwise, it would have shorn right off and we'd both have had a good tumble to our deaths.

I can't help but imagine Kenobi lived that fall. Considering how resourceful he's proven to be, a little more caution on my part would be warranted. No more underestimating my opponent. Right now I need to concentrate on keeping up a good face for Boba. He doesn't know we walk a knife's edge just yet. He's tough, but he's young. Some things he's just not ready for.

* * *

Kenobi is relentless. If Boba weren't here, I would have shown a little more emotion. Frustration, anger, felt it all when I saw that undersized fighter drop out of hyperspace.

Somehow he put a tracker on my ship. _My_ ship. It wasn't during the fight, I know that at least. Boba ran a scan right before liftoff. Which means… Which means the Jedi managed to climb back to the landing pad before we lifted off. Impressive.

But not impressive enough. Kenobi may be good, and he may be tenacious as a rancor, but he's not a great pilot. Boba got a bit of a show with the sonic charges. Those things are expensive, but the way his eyes light when I drop em make it worth every one.

It was a bit of a surprise how many lasers that little Delta 7 soaked up. You can say a lot of things about the Jedi, but they don't skimp when it comes to tech. A couple of missiles later and it was all over. At least that's what I tell Boba.

Truth is, I'm not so sure. Sensors registered target destroyed, but I didn't see any debris. And there's something about this Kenobi guy. He may not be much of a pilot, but I'm not sure he's bad enough to let a couple of concussion missiles turn him into dust. Maybe I'm just spooked? Been a long time since anyone's gotten under Jango's skin, but this Kenobi is getting close. I'll need to speak to Lord Tyrannus the moment I touch down; security needs to be on the lookout for this guy.

Bet my blasters this ends in a pay cut.

* * *

It didn't take em long to find and capture Kenobi. Even let him start a transmission before making a show of interrupting and taking him. Guess it goes to show that they only tell me what I need to know. Reasonable sort of policy, but I'm a little concerned about just where this is all going. I was hired to help start a war, not to fight it. If I'm reading things right, that war may be coming a bit sooner than I was promised.

I've got Kenobi to thank for that. I've also got Kenobi to thank for some lost credits. He's just floating in a suspension chamber now, looking all peaceful like he's sleeping. I'm starting to really hate this guy. If he would have just taken the hint once, just once, things would have gone as planned. Could have finished things up here then been half the galaxy away with Boba before the shots started. Now my son and I are about to be caught in the crosshairs of the galaxy's oldest enemies.

Jedi are bad for business, especially if your bosses are Sith Lords. That much is certain.

* * *

It's happened. The shooting has started, and Jedi are coming out of the ground like rodents. I can't tell if things are coming apart and the plan is ruined or if this was the plan all along. Look, I'm a simple man. A businessman, the best at what I do. That's what got me the job. But I'm starting to get the feeling that I might be in a little deep. Gangsters, syndicates, corrupt corporate overlords, these are the kind of scum I can handle. The kind I can manipulate for a profit. Their schemes are pretty easy to see through.

Getting caught between the Jedi and Sith? Mistake. And it may cost me my life. If Kenobi is any indication the Jedi will be relentless in hounding Tyrannus and this Sidious character until they're dust.

Or maybe they'll all kill each other.

But I'm stuck in the middle, and that doesn't bode well for me. No, there's too many Jedi here, and if I were a betting man, I wouldn't be putting any credits on Jango. Tyrannus is just standing there like he expects me to deal with this. I don't get his game, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not part of it past today.

I'm just more cannon fodder for him. If I were a smart man, I'd take Boba and run. Get as far away from here as I could. But I'm not a smart man. I'm a businessman, and I've still got the job I was hired to do.

Curse that Kenobi. This is his fault. Learn when to back off and let be. You've gotten a lot of people killed today.

I hope Boba escapes.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ As is not unusual sometimes these things end up being about more than Kenobi. Jango doesn't really have much _character_ in Canon. There's not really any more material about him, so I didn't have an awful lot to go on. I've tried to at least make him a little sympathetic.

I also ended up trying to rationalize my way around some of Episode II's unexplained plot points. Interestingly the prequels don't treat the audience like they are stupid when it comes to the plot. The villain never sits and monologues to explain just how his plan works. George Lucas expects you to watch the movie and interpret it.

That said some things are _pretty_ open to interpretation. Was Kenobi meant to find the clones when he did? Was the saberdart a deliberate clue? If so why had Dooku deleted all information on Kamino from the Jedi archives? Talk about a subtle clue. If it wasn't a clue does that mean that Kenobi found the clones early and thus accidentally started the Clone Wars before Palpatine was ready? It works either way because Palpatine scrambled and got his emergency powers and the Clone Wars began in earnest, with both sides having their "manufactured" armies to put the galaxy through the meat grinder on a moment's notice.

But we don't know if Kenobi was MEANT to find Kamino or not at that point. So I went with Jango not intending it, and then having doubts about the nature of the plan as things progress. This works perfectly because I doubt he knew any more than he needed to. And being a simple man, he comes to that conclusion before the end.

Of course, he ends up blaming Kenobi and his relentless pursuit for the whole mess...


	11. Wisdom: Count Dooku Darth Tyrannus

**_Wisdom: Count Dooku/Darth Tyrannus  
_** ** _22 BBY: During Episode II  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 35_**

There are many reasons one can fall to the dark side, but the most obvious is the lust for power and the desire to dominate. This, Darth Tyrannus mused, was the cause for Darth Sidious' descent into madness. And he was mad, of this the apprentice had little doubt. Rather like a caged animal, prowling behind transparisteel, waiting for the opportunity to lash out and kill anyone around him. Tyrannus knew to stay out of reach of his Master, at least as much as was possible. That was a difficult task, as the arm of the Dark Lord of the Sith was long indeed.

But there were other reasons to fall to the dark side, more… complicated ones. Ones that involved intentions less diabolical. Tyrannus had watched, over the course of his long life, the galaxy descend into corruption and apathy. By midlife, he had realized that the Republic and Jedi were both doomed. Their death would be slow and painful, and trillions of innocents would be caught in the wake of their fall.

Darth Sidious had offered an alternative, one that would still leave trillions of lives ruined, but would shorten the generations-long fall of an ancient republic to a few short years. The suffering would be contained to a single generation. The Count of Serenno had made his choice and become Darth Tyrannus. He had committed himself to his new master and the dark side, but his old self was not wholly gone and, on some days, still fought for attention.

Today was one of those days, he mused as he sat in his bare office on Geonosis. Obi-Wan Kenobi had somehow found his way to both Kamino and Geonosis on a timetable that baffled Tyrannus. He wasn't sure if the Bounty Huner was to blame or not or this was all part of the plan. Sidious had not seemed to mind when this had been reported. In fact, he was already moving to get emergency powers invested in himself by the Senate. Tyrannus shuddered. This was why he was afraid of Sidious. The man loomed like a dark arachnid at the center of a great web, and it seemed all things fell to his whims. Tyrannus was not fool enough to believe that he was safe from the creature.

He closed his eyes and thought of Kenobi again and his conversation. Kenobi had presented a… rather unique opportunity. It was the nature of the Sith to betray their Master. This was their very code, and Tyrannus had already begun to secure his future by taking Ventress as an apprentice. She had her uses and would be a powerful asset, especially in battle, as time went on and her skills increased. But Kenobi could have been an asset of an entirely different sort.

Kenobi was sensible and wise in his own way. He, after all, had some of his master Qui-Gon in him. Which meant that he had some of the Count Dooku in him. And so Tyrannus had done the sensible thing and used the cruelest and most effective of deceptions: he told him the truth. He told Kenobi of the Senate's corruption and of the Dark Lord that controlled the Senate. He told him of Darth Sidious.

As Tyrannus had revealed these truths to him, the figments of a plan had formed in his mind, a new and better plan. Kenobi would not fall to the dark side; Tyrannus was not so foolish as to believe this. But if he could be made to believe in the cause of the Separatists, that the Republic was lost and the Jedi with them, then perhaps he would aid Count Dooku. And one day Count Dooku would reveal that he was Tyrannus and together a Jedi and a Sith would rise up and strike down the Lord of the Sith, end the Clone Wars and prevent Sidious' vision of the future from coming to pass. Kenobi could help to restore a new, wiser Republic, and Tyrannus would help foster those seeking independence.

Because this was why Count Dooku fell to the dark side. This was why Tyrannus was. Not to conquer and destroy and own all that he could lay his hands on, like his master, but for the sake of his people. For the sake of Serenno, he had given himself to the dark side. And the cost would be terrible. But Kenobi could help mitigate that cost, Kenobi could…

He had refused and that future dissolved into mist. Tyrannus sat now in his office, slumped in a chair. He felt Count Dooku, his old self, rising up within him, and the shadow of regret passed through his being. "You are a fool, Tyrannus," Count Dooku said. "Sidious will cast us off. He knows our commitment is to our cause, not to his. The arachnid on the great web will use us and dispose of us both when he is through with us. This is the way of the Sith, the very road you committed us to, a road in which we do not come out alive."

"Indeed," Tyrannus said aloud, in a whisper. "I am not the fool you think I am. I know what I have become. It is the very reason I sought the aid of Kenobi. Perhaps with his help, we could have…"

"Kenobi would have never sided with us," Count Dooku scoffed. "He is too wise for that. His wisdom is the wisdom of Qui-Gon, wisdom that we once held and have now abandoned. The half-truths you told him were not enough to throw him off the course of everything he has known and loved. He has more wisdom than you know.

Tyrannus stared silently out a window, feeling despair well up with him. "Yes... Yes, I know. It was but a fancy, and I am destined to be a despot; billions will die so that trillions may live." He sighed, letting the air hiss out between his clenched teeth slowly. "And like my master, I must be a schemer. I must weave webs stronger and more tangled than his own. I will never be more powerful than him, so I must be more clever than him." Tyrannus opened his mind to the dark side of the Force and let its ebon glow fill his spirit. He used it to push Count Dooku back deep within him.

"Kenobi is too wise to save himself. Pity. He could have been a useful tool. But there will be other tools, other battles to fight." He activated the comm on his desk. "Archduke Poggle. Your people are in need of entertainment. I propose we stage a public execution for our Jedi guest."

* * *

 _ **End of Act 2: Knight of the Republic**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ This one took me longer to write than I thought it would. Actually, that's not true. It took very little time to write but a long time to conceptualize and again ends up being as much or more about the other person than Kenobi. It's interesting that Dooku and Kenobi never met before Episode II given both their links to Obi-Wan. We don't canonically know much about Dooku yet, but I like to imagine, given his dissatisfaction with the order, that some of Qui-Gon's non-traditional mindset comes from him. I imagine this link also made Dooku have a certain respect for Kenobi.

I interpreted this respect and Dooku's attempting to recruit Obi-Wan as genuine. Afterall, Sith are always looking for ways to subvert their Master...

Obi-Wan was wise enough not to trust Dooku of course, even if he had been offered some key truths in that conversation.  
I hope you enjoyed this. Yes, yes I've made another villain sympathetic. In my mind, Sidious is the only villain completely unworthy of any sympathy in Star Wars (Even Jabba has his son stolen at one point, weird a story as that was...) But we're not quite to the chapter where we'll hear Darth Sidious' opinion of Obi-Wan...


	12. Reckless: Ahsoka Tano

**_Act 3: Twilight of an Age_**

* * *

 ** _Reckless: Ahsoka Tano  
_** ** _21 BBY: Height of Clone Wars  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 36  
_** ** _Ahsoka Age: 15_**

"This is a terrible plan," Anakin groaned, putting down the macrobinoculars he had been scanning the separatist compound with

Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It's a brilliant plan, and it's going to work. Just like my plans always do."

Ahsoka looked at the two and rolled her eyes. She stepped back from the plateau edge they had been using to reconnoiter the bunker from and glanced at the two older Jedi. Rather like a pair of brothers, she thought; they cared about each other so much that the only way they knew how to express it was by fighting and verbal sparring. "Look, esteemed Masters, entertaining as I know this is going to be, can we just roll with it? Obi-Wan's plans _are_ usually good. I mean when do they ever go so wrong that we can't salvage it."

Obi-Wan pointed a finger at Anakin. "Don't say it."

"Don't say what?" Anakin asked, a playful grin beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"You know what. Don't say it. Now if we can get back to the infiltra…"

"Oh right, you mean that business on Cato Nemoidia. That _was_ pretty bad. Good thing I was around to save you." Anakin winked at Ahsoka. "You should have been there, Snips. I have never seen one of Obi-Wan's plans fall so completely…"

"That's enough," Obi-Wan said clearing my throat. "I've said it before, but that doesn't count. For anything." He looked at Ahsoka. "Ever."

Ahsoka chuckled. "Whatever you say, Master Obi-Wan. Personally, I like when you lead a mission. Well thought out, until it goes wrong and we have to piece it back together." She moved her shoulder in a lazy shrug. "They're fun."

Obi-Wan eyed his former Padawan. "I'm not sure what you're teaching your apprentice, but it's probably a good thing I'm around to make sure she doesn't get too reckless." He continued before Ahsoka or Anakin could protest. "Now. We know our assignments?"

"Yes, yes," Anakin said, growing bored. "You and I march into the separatist base, walk into their fancy Jedi trap, draw a thousand battle droids out, and Ahsoka sneaks through the vents to the control center. Shuts down the trap, shuts down the anti-air guns. Then the Rex and Torrent company make a real mess of things."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Very good. Shall we?" he gestured over the ledge. "I'd rather we finish this unpleasant business before it gets dark."

Anakin nodded at his apprentice. "Let's do it, Snips. Try and keep up, Obi-Wan." With that final quip, Anakin jumped over the ledge. Ahsoka followed close behind. It was only forty or so meters, not even long enough to enjoy the free fall. Using the Force, Ahsoka cushioned her fall and landed lightly in a crouch. Anakin was on the move again before Obi-Wan hit the ground beside her. Springing to her feet, she bounded after Anakin. With the Force aiding them, they covered the distance between the cliff and the Separatist bunker at an alarming rate. As they approached, Anakin nodded to her and Ahsoka split off to where schematics showed a disguised ventilation shaft.

Knowing what to look for, she peeled the camouflaged cover back, sliced through the grill with her saber, and dropped down the shaft nearly ten meters. She reached up and turned her earpiece on. "In position," she whispered.

"Excellent," Obi-Wan's voice came out of her headset. "Now, Anakin. Shall we go in the front door?"

"I'd be delighted." Ahsoka heard two lightsabers ignite as they cut their way into the main bunker. She listened as there was some surprised chatter from a couple of B1 battle droids. They were silenced almost immediately by the lightsabers. Ahsoka knew that they were in a long corridor now, and past that?

The Jedi Trap. This trap was half the reason they were here on this unnamed moon in the Outer Rim. Sure, taking the listening post out of commision would be a win for the Grand Army of the Republic. But discouraging the Separatists from investing in techniques to defeat Jedi was the main mission. Intelligence sources had tipped them to this scheme, and Obi-Wan's plan of tripping the trap, disabling the droid run facility, and leaving ample evidence that Jedi had done it wasn't actually that bad. Hopefully, the Seps would chalk up the trap as a failed design and not bother making any more. And hopefully, everyone would come out alive.

"Here it is, Anakin," she heard Obi-Wan's quiet voice come into her ear. "I must say, I'm not all that impressed. Large round room. Looks like most of the floor will fall away when they turn it on and I know those walls are magnetically sealed."

"What, you're not hesitating are you?" came Anakin's cocky voice. "Let's go… Oh yep, that sprang it. Hey, you forgot about one part of this trap."

"Oh?"

"Lots and Lots of droids."

Ahsoka heard their lightsabers ignite and took that as her cue. "I'm on the move. Stay safe you two." She slashed the floor at her feet and dropped out into an empty corridor. Empty. Glancing around, she started in the direction of the control center. Ahsoka knew exactly where she was as she'd memorized the layout of the facility before the mission. Bariss would be proud.

"Anakin, the Droidekas please."

"I thought you were dealing with them?"

"I could, but you're clearly in better position to get behind them and…"

"Fine. Fine. I've got it."

Ahsoka rounded a turn. Two B2 super battle droids stood guard at a junction. The first never even had a chance to react before Ahsoka cleaved it into two molten pieces. The second managed to rumble a distorted "Stop where you are," before Ahsoka's saber found it's head.

"Snips, how you doing?" Anakin asked in her ear.

"I'm fine. I'll be at the control room soon," she answered and took the appropriate passage from the junction.

"No sightseeing. I'm starting to dislike Obi-Wan's plan."

"The plan is going splendidly well, Anakin, and you _never_ liked it. If a couple hundred droids are starting to give you trouble then…"

"Oh, it's not the droids, it's the fact that droids won't ever _stop_ coming.. I don't know what you think of this plan Ahsoka, but I'm starting to think it's a bit…"

"Reckless?" Ahsoka filled in the missing word. "All of Obi-Wan's plans are reckless."

"Excuse me?" Obi-Wan shouted over a cacophony of shattering electronics.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and glanced through a viewport to the right. She could see into the trap where Anakin and Obi-Wan fought, back to back, against a veritable flood of droids. They _would_ eventually be overwhelmed, she thought grimly and tried to run a little bit quicker through the empty corridors. Clearly whatever droid was running this place had decided to throw everything they had at Anakin and Obi-Wan. Which meant that reckless as Obi-Wan's plan was, it _was_ working as intended. "You know," she said aloud. "I've noticed an awful lot of your plans involve getting captured or walking into traps."

"That is not true," Obi-Wan objected immediately. "Anakin is the reckless one, and if you think that…"

"Yeah, and he got a lot of it from you," Ahsoka laughed. "Control room dead ahead, I'll get you two out shortly."

Anakin also laughed. "She's got a point about you getting captured. Offhand I can think of Christophsis, Ord Mantell, and Selucami. And of course, let's not forget about Cato Nemoidia…"

"That doesn't count," Obi-Wan growled. "Ahsoka are you almost…?"

"I'm there. Hold on!" She slashed the control of the door, and it slid open. Ahsoka smiled, pleased; you never quite knew if smashing a door panel would open or close a given blast door. It made things convenient when they cooperated. Leaping into the room, she took the heads from three B1s, ducked into a roll and came to bear on the Tactical Droid.

"This does not compute," it began in a stilted voice. "The odds of this trap failing are…"

Ahsoka took its head clean off. "Don't care," she said cooly and looked around the control room. Rows of panels filled the room, and Ahsoka had no idea what any of it did or where to even begin disabling the defenses. Looking ahead she saw that the control room had an observation window looking into the trap. Anakin and Obi-Wan were completely surrounded now.

"I sure hope both sides of this window aren't magnetically sealed," Ahsoka muttered and raised her lightsaber. Bringing it to the window, it sliced easily, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She made several cuts through the window, strategically weakening it to fail, then stepped back. "Heads up boys," she said to Anakin and Obi-Wan.

With that, she threw both of her hands at the observation window. A wave of kinetic energy slammed into it, and it shattered into a million pieces. Taking her saber, she knocked a few dangerous shards that hadn't fallen away from the frame.

"There's our exit," she heard Anakin say. A few seconds later he and Obi-Wan came flying through the window backwards, still deflecting blaster bolts back towards the droids. Then it was quiet. "I hate your plans," Anakin said with a shrug and tapped his comm. "Rex. You feeling like some action?"

"Yes, sir." The clone captain answered curtly. "Leave any for us?"

"Ehhhh…" Anakin said smiling. "Couple hundred. Maybe more."

"On our way. We'll clean your mess up sir." The comm went silent, and the three Jedi were left alone in the control room.

Anakin and Obi-Wan immediately went to the control panels, probably to shut the defenses. They had more experience with these sorts of systems then she did. Ahsoka let them to their task and peeked out the window. "That's a lot of droids down there."

Anakin muttered something under his breath. The only words Ahsoka caught were, terrible plan.

"Look here," Obi-Wan grumbled, annoyed that he was still being questioned. "We're all alive. It worked, and we've shown the Separatists that their design can be beaten."

"Right," Anakin said shaking his head slowly, "only because we knew about it."

"But the Separatists don't know that," Obi-Wan countered. "Their take away will be that their trap failed. And that's fine by me; I hope to never get caught in a meat grinder like that again."

Anakin and Ahsoka both looked at each other at the same moment, caught each other's eyes, and smiled. "So let's get this straight," Ahsoka said coyly. "Your plan involved deliberately walking into what you called a meat grinder. And you're trying to tell me that your plans aren't the slightest bit reckless?"

Obi-Wan eyes darted between the two of them and then finished his work at the console. "I see how it is. Two on one. Pick on Obi-Wan. Laugh it up, but I like to think that without me, you two would get into an enormous amount of trouble."

Anakin just shrugged "Probably."

"But it's more fun if you're around," Ahsoka said. "Now I believe Rex and his men are going to want a hand."

"Very well," Obi-Wan said igniting his lightsaber and turning toward the door. "Let's finish dealing with the droids.

Ahsoka and Anakin looked at each other again and said in unison, "Reckless."

Obi-wan groaned loudly. "You two will be the death of me, for sure."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ Just some fan Clone Wars style banter between our three heroes. Enjoy it because these stories are about to get darker for awhile...

I don't have a lot else to say here, other than the fact that Obi-Wan DOES get captured a lot, and walks into a LOT of traps very deliberately. He's nothing if not confident...


	13. Dire Threat: Darth Sidious

**_Dire Threat: Darth Sidious  
_** ** _21 BBY: Height of Clone Wars  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age 36_**

"Well I believe that settles things nicely," Chancellor Palpatine said, a pleasant smile on his face. "I'm so delighted this nasty business had a happy ending!"

"Indeed," Mace Windu replied with a curt nod of his head. "Now with your leave…?"

"Of course, of course. You have your duties to attend to, and I have mine." The Jedi stood to leave the chancellor's office. "Oh, and Master Kenobi?"

Kenobi paused at the door and turned. "Yes, Chancellor? May I be of service?"

Palpatine examined the Jedi, framed against the doorway as he stood in the antechamber to the office. Ironically by standing in that very spot, Kenobi was surrounded by ancient Sith artifacts. Of course, the Jedi were foolish enough not to even recognize their own enemies. "I wanted to congratulate you on your appointment to the High Council. Your career seems to be going exceedingly well!"

Kenobi smiled that insufferably charming grin. "Well, not being a politician, like yourself, your excellency, I care little for career advancement. But I will serve the Republic and the Order to the fullest of my abilities in whatever position the Order places me."

"Humble, as always." Palpatine smiled, feeling the irritation burn with him. "Well, I expect great things from you, Master Kenobi. Now, I won't hold you any longer."

The group of Jedi bowed and left the office, and Palpatine sat at his desk quietly for a moment, his hands intertwined in front of him. Slowly the gentle facade of Palpatine began to melt away as the muscles in his neck tensed and his face coiled into a grimace. Gone was the kind old politician. It his place sat a twisted creature, visage snarled like a hawk-bat, hands curled dangerously as if looking for a throat to throttle. It was as if rigor-mortis had set in on a corpse, transforming the senator into a new man. A dead man.

Darth Sidious pressed a button on the arm of his chair to darken his windows. The light of day was a nuisance to him right now, a nuisance surpassed only by the Jedi and their persistent meddling. For being so feeble, their ability to get in the way of his plans was impressive. Especially…

Especially Kenobi. The scowl on Darth Sidious' face deepened, if that was somehow possible. Kenobi was a particular irritation. He had a knack for being where he wasn't supposed to be, doing what he wasn't supposed to do, and surviving what he wasn't supposed to survive. And, oh, how Sidious had tried to have him killed. First with Maul years ago and then with countless other plots and schemes and yet still Kenobi walked around with a smile on his smug face, ignorant of the roads he walked, yet still persevering. But Kenobi was more than just an irritation, more than a nuisance. He was something different. A unique…

Threat.

That's what he was. Kenobi represented a unique threat to Sidious and his plans. He was a Jedi, not as they are in this late age of laziness and corruption, but an ideal Jedi, one worthy of standing amongst the pantheon of the Heroes of Old. Honest, humble, and powerful. He belonged not to the weak and timid Order that was slowly disintegrating in the throes of war, but to a time and place far from here. Sidious felt his lip twitch uncomfortably. Kenobi belonged to the Order that had defeated the Sith a millennium ago.

Darth Sidious stood. He needed clarity of thought, he needed… He touched his comm. "Mas Amedda. I would speak to you." He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he reached out with the Force and opened a hidden wall panel and pulled the secret garment hidden within to himself. A crimson black robe, like blood that is old and dried. He pulled the hood over his face and opened his palm to receive the lightsabers that leaped to his waiting hands. They were promptly tucked into his sleeves.

Mas Amedda stepped into the office, and cooly took in how the chancellor was dressed. "Yes, my lord?"

"It seems the chancellor isn't feeling well, and won't be conducting business today," his voice was raspy, like talons on a window.

Mas Amedda bowed. "Yes, my lord." He left the office with no further question. Sidious knew that the Chagrian was wise enough to know when things did not concern him. He was a useful servant, and even wise in his own way, but he was ignorant to the dark side. Better still, he knew he was ignorant and had no desire to learn. Such was wisdom, Sidious thought and would keep Mas Amedda among the living.

Darth Sidious took a secret exit from his office. It led to a deserted utility corridor, one that appeared on no schematic or map of the Senate building. He followed it as it led to the heart of the massive structure, twisting downward until finally, it reached its destination. Moving aside a panel he entered the secret turbo lift. He had had it built in secret, years ago, when he first became Chancellor. Doing so without being noticed had been a… difficult undertaking. Offworld workers had been brought in, worked only in the dead of night when the Senate building was quiet, and were completely isolated from the outside world.

Darth Sidious smiled to himself as he stepped into the turbo-lift and it began to take him downward at stomach wrenching speed. After the workers were finished and he had made sure the task was completed to satisfaction, he had personally murdered each of them. He still remembered their terrified screams when a politician suddenly donned lightsabers, shrieked, and began cutting them to pieces.

Sometime later, the Lord of the Sith stepped out of the turbo lift on the deepest, most ancient level of Coruscant: Level One, dozens of kilometers beneath the surface, locked in an eternal night, and entirely forgotten by the world above. Which didn't mean it was abandoned, he thought as he looked at the fresh pile of bodies surrounding the turbo lift. They were mostly beasts, killed by the automated defenses, horrible twisted creatures without eyes, but there were the bodies of a few sentients as well.

Tribes of primitive sentients were locked in eternal wars on the lowest levels. Pale, malnourished, despicable creatures that consumed the flesh of their fallen foes; the billions above their heads would never know they existed. Most of these primitives had never seen any light but the pale orange glow of their bonfires casting eerie shadows amongst the roots of the buildings. Even now the Sith could feel their misery all around him. It gave him strength and power and fed upon it gleefully. No, no place on Coruscant was dead or devoid of life, it was just a matter of how rotten that life was, how utterly meaningless its existence.

It was a several hour hike to his destination, and Sidious set out in earnest, in an unnatural side-to-side gate. He knew the way well, as he had made it dozens of times, and he saw the markings of his past battles on the road. Shattered skeletons, burn marks, piles of debris, all made when the foolish denizens of this underworld had thought he was easy prey. He welcomed such fights, as it wasn't often he was able to relish in the slaughter of others. Watching the Galaxy tear itself apart in war from a distance wasn't the same thing as seeing the fear in another's eyes as they perished at your own hands.

Sidious' mind returned again and again to Kenobi. There were many kinds of anger, and unlike what the nieve Jedi believed, it did not all lead to the dark side, did not all lead into the hatred of others and self that the dark side required. The anger that he felt now was such an anger. It frustrated, irritated, but did not empower; it was the anger of a small sharp stone in one's shoe.

Kenobi was this stone. And it seemed that he had planted himself firmly in the path of Sidious. And his threat to Sidious was multifold. First, he had significant influence over Anakin, whom the Sith had grand designs upon. For all the power Sidious had over Anakin as Palpatine, Kenobi had more sway. Second, Kenobi held too much influence over the order itself. Sidious had little doubt that someday Kenobi would replace Master Windu as Master of the Order. This was something that could never be allowed to come to pass. The Jedi must be destroyed before Kenobi was allowed to take any more leadership than he had now.

Windu was workable. He was old, stubborn, and set in his ways. He had learned all the wrong lessons from the Jedi Code and could be relied on to be utterly predictable. But Kenobi was another matter, another matter entirely. If he replaced Windu as Master of the Order someday… Then the Jedi might awaken from their centuries of decline, and things would get... complicated. No that must never happen. The Jedi must be ended under Windu's leadership or else all of Sidious' scheming, nay a millennium of Sith scheming, could come to naught but frustration and disappointment in the bitter end.

Sidious sensed them before they struck. Some gang or tribe trying to encircle him. Eight sentients. No danger to the Sith Lord. He smiled, a crooked smile full of venom and wicked glee, and ignited a blood red lightsaber in each hand. He continued on his way, dragging the ground with his sabers, leaving twin trails of molten red in the ancient duracrete, a silent threat and challenge to those watching in the shadows.

They took the challenge and attacked from out of the darkness. He sliced the first pale human cleanly in half as it dove at him with a spear and then laughed as he drove himself into a frenzy. The next attacker he toyed with, dodging the crude axe slashed at him before repeatedly stabbing them in the chest. The bloodlust took him, and he danced through the remaining primitives. With each kill he imagined the face of a Jedi that he hated, knowing that when the time came, he would personally get to kill very few Jedi. When he was nearly out of victims, he cleaved one in two with a great vertical slash, directing all of his hatred towards Kenobi.

The last of the tribe tried to run, and Sidious leaped in front of the poor creature, a malnourished human with more skin pigment than the rest. "My boy," he said, suddenly more Palpatine then crazed Sith Lord. "Whatever are you doing so far from the surface?"

A look of confusion crossed the face of the young man as he tried to back away from the nightmare that had ended his comrades. Did he see the glowing yellow eyes from beneath the crimson hood? "Long story, you wouldn't be interested."

Sidious' smile dripped with poison as he said, "How right you are," and used the force to pull the young man to him. Placing a hand on his head, Sidious invaded his terrified mind. Altering the mind of another was a particular talent of the Lord of the Sith, but he usually did so as a politician, subtle as a serpent and careful to leave no trace. Now he needed no such discretion, and as he forced his way through the mind of the young man, he destroyed all in his wake, obliterating the personality and leaving behind a hollow shell. "Now," he said to the husk. "Follow me."

The husk didn't answer but followed obediently. It had no will now but the will of Sidious. Sometime later, the Sith and the husk reached their destination, a vast pyramid of obsidian black stone nestled among the ancient support columns that held up the world. Here among the foundations, Coruscant held its greatest secret, the ancient Sith Shrine founded at the dawn of civilization. Millenia had buried it beneath eons of new growth. Once, the Jedi had been aware of its presence, but they had built their temple above the shrine, perhaps in arrogance, perhaps to hide the dark stain.

Darth Sidious approached the shrine and placed a hand on its inky black surface. It responded to the darkness in him and lines of red light burned from deep within it. A door opened to its core, and he led the husk down the corridor to the black heart of the world, the cancer that festered in the soul of Coruscant. Sidious knew the power of this place, that it was the reason Coruscant was the center of the galaxy. It drew the powerful, the strong, and the corrupt, and with them, it had sowed misery and grief for thousands of years. Black sorrow radiated from this warped shrine and Coruscant would never be free from its power.

He entered the inner sanctum and prepared a ritual to look into the future; not the clumsy unguided foretellings of the Jedi, but the purposeful methods of the Sith, methods that tore secrets from an unwilling future. When at last Sidious was ready he took a great black knife and slew the husk, slitting its throat. The corpse fell to the ground, and its blood drained into a basin. The Lord of the Sith pushed the body into the basin and began to chant, ancient fell words, and the room sprang to life with heatless blue fire. A sickly blue glow filled the room as the Sith Sorcery took hold and was strengthened by the fresh blood. Into this blue fire, Darth Sidious peered and saw a thousand possible futures.

In most of these futures, he saw his own defeat; he played a dangerous game, and a single misstep would prove fatal. And in almost every one of those defeats, he saw a single face taunting him: Obi-Wan Kenobi. In some versions of the future, Sidious tempted Anakin, who rejected him and with Obi-Wan defeated him. In others, the Clone Wars go on for too long, and Obi-Wan is made the Master of the Order; in those versions of the future things changed drastically and never to Sidious' benefit. In still other possibilities, the Order discovered who Sidious was on their own, and a team of Jedi led by Anakin and Obi-Wan exposed him to the Senate and destroyed him. Sometimes Obi-Wan died; when this happened, Anakin became a paragon for the light and ended the Sith on his own.

Sometimes the Padawan, Ahsoka Tano stood with her mentors, but usually, she was absent. In a few possibilities, it is she that stood by Sidious' side over the ruins of the Republic. These were intriguing possibilities, and briefly, he wondered what could turn the good-natured Ahsoka against the Order. He pushed these futures aside, as he was more interested in the Master than the Padawan.

In every future that Sidious was triumphant, Anakin was isolated from those he loved, from his Padawan, from his secret wife, but most of all, from his friend and mentor Obi-Wan. This then was Sideous' course, as it always had been. Divide Anakin and Obi-wan, drive a wedge between them so that when the hammer falls, Anakin will be left alone.

Sidious stepped away from the sickly luminous fires as they begin to die. In the basin, the remains of the corpse crumbled to ash. The Sith closed his eyes and channeled all his hatred towards Obi-Wan. Like the Imperator in a game of Shah-tezh, Obi-Wan was the most important piece on the other side. If he falls or is made irrelevant, then the game is over.

Air escaped from between the clenched teeth of the Sith Lord, hissing like a serpent. Slowly the hiss became a tortured growl as he vented all his frustration and rage towards Kenobi. The growl became a roar and then a blood-curdling shriek. It stopped suddenly, and the ghostly wail echoed through the depths of the forgotten shrine.

Obi-Wan was a threat, but the Lord of the Sith had dealt with other threats before. When the time came, he would deal with Obi-Wan. A black smile spread across his cowled face; he would take great joy when Obi-Wan fell from power. The Dark Lord of the Sith cackled as he walked out of the Shrine, heedless of any that might hear him down in the dark. Let them come. His lust for death and destruction were not yet sated. Perhaps it never would be.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ And this is officially the most demented thing I've ever written. Yikes, that was unpleasant to write, but I'm pleased with the results.

On a side note, I took heavy inspiration from Tolkien and his descriptions of Moria for when I needed to describe the bottom levels of Coruscant. Tolkien spoke of "The uttermost foundations of the world" and "nameless things that dwell at the roots of the mountains." I imagine Coruscant to be quite similar.

As one final note that Sith Shrine _is_ canonical. I took inspiration from the Sith Temple seen on Malachor in Rebels in it's description.


	14. A Good Man: Duchess Satine Kryze

_**Author's Note:**_ I warned at the beginning of this that I would spoil the Clone Wars and Rebels. This is the first spoiler chapter. Strongly recommend you have finished the Clone Wars before reading the next two chapters as I'm about to spoil some of the best content from the series...

You've been warned.

Short chapter incoming, but I like to think it packs a punch...

* * *

 _ **A Good Man: Satine Kryze  
**_ _ **20 BBY: Height of the Clone Wars  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 37**_

When the rockets tore into their freighter, Satine knew that the end had come. For long she had heard the approaching footsteps of her doom. Softly at first, and then louder as the Galaxy and Mandalore descended into madness.

 _Doom_ , _Doom_ , _Doom_ , rang out the steps, like the distant echo of a bell, or the sharpening of an axe.

And now her doom had arrived, and it would take not only herself but her beloved Obi-Wan. Oh, why had he come to this forsaken planet? Why didn't he ignore the plea for help? She had killed them both with her own arrogance. She thought she could wrestle her people onto what she felt was a better path, a noble path, a progressive one.

But progress must be built upon a foundation, and Satine's reckless press for a peaceful and pacifistic Mandalore had set aside centuries of history and culture. She had chosen to reject this foundation and had built her house upon the sand.

Her house would not endure the storm. It was already washing away as if it had never been. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, as she lay upon the docking platform barely conscious, the bitter taste of failure. Her own debts had come due, and the cost would be high. The capstone of her life was failure and the destruction of her people.

Sometime later she came to her senses. She was in the throne room with the monsters and the Death Watch zealots. And there on his knees before the throne. Her dear Obi.

 _ **Doom**_ _,_ _ **Doom**_ _,_ _ **Doom**_ _,_ came the footsteps, like the peal of a war drum. They were no longer distant but had arrived. There was no mistaking the intent of the drums.

Satine knew she would never leave this room alive.

She watched in horror as Obi-Wan and the red creature stared into each other. She did not know what history they had together, but it was fraught with malice and bitterness. The red creature wore hatred like a crown upon his head, triumphant over his enemy and hungry for the misery of his foe. But Obi-Wan was stronger than the monster knew. Satine saw the moment when he pushed aside his fear, his hatred, his malice.

Obi-Wan found pity for the red creature, found pity in his tortured past and upbringing.

This was always Obi-Wan's true power. It was not the strength of his limbs or the strength of his connection to the Force that made him who he was.

It was that Obi-Wan was a good man. He was a good man in a universe gone to madness, a universe where billions died in a senseless war, a universe where the weak were crushed by the strong. It has been said that a good man can make all the difference. But Obi-Wan was just one man, and the flood was too great.

This pity offered by his enemy put the red creature into a black rage.

 _ **Doom**_ _ **,**_ _ **Doom**_ _ **,**_ _ **Doom**_ _ **,**_ went the footsteps, like cannon fire, like holes torn in reality. Like the beating of her own heart. This was the end Satine thought. Oh, Obi, I wish that…

The red creature impaled her on his black blade, and she fell. As she fell, she pondered what her life may have been if she had run away with Obi-wan years ago, as her instinct had been, long ago when they were young, and times were innocent. The universe would have spun on around them much the same, though perhaps Mandalore would have been better for her absence. The war would have raged, the Republic and Jedi dying as they sacrificed their ideals on the altar of destruction.

But Obi-Wan might have been happy, for a time. Obi-Wan might have simply lived as a man, a good man, unburdened by the weight of the universe. She would have given anything to make him happy. She should have given him that future.

That is not what happened. They had parted ways long ago, and had either truly been happy? She had ruined a people, and he tried to hold back the flood of darkness descending on them all. And even one good man has his limits.

He cradled her now and her vision cleared briefly.

 _ **Doom**_ _ **.**_

"Remember my dear Obi-Wan," she said reaching to his face. The sorrow in his eyes nearly broke what was left of her, but she must continue before her strength failed utterly.

 _ **Doom**_ _._

"I've always loved you." This was the last thing that Satine knew to be true. The last thing that she held to as the world dissolved around her.

 _Doom_.

"I always will."

Doom, whispered the final footstep as her soul departed her broken body.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ While there's no part of Satine's story that's not tragic, I like to think that Bo-Katan walked a more moderate line to follow in her sister's memory. Perhaps in her death, Satine's vision of a wiser Mandalore did come about...

Let me know what you think!


	15. Above Reproach: Plo Koon

_**Author's Note:**_ Oh dear I hope you're not a Mace Windu lover because I'm about to be rather harsh to him again. For like the 5th time this series…

MAJOR Clone Wars Spoilers. Please. Don't. Read. If you haven't finished that series or you will be spoiling one of its climactic moments.

* * *

 _ **Above Reproach: Plo Koon**_

 _ **20 BBY: Twilight of the Clone Wars**_

 _ **Obi-Wan Age: 37**_

Ashes.

Plo Koon tasted ashes in his mouth as Ahsoka rejected the Council's offer to reinstate her into the order. He had watched her posture alternate between despondence and defiance as each council member spoke, and when Master Windu spoke, open skepticism. But when Anakin offered her Padawan beads, Plo knew her decision was made. Little Ahsoka would not be coming back to the Order.

More than ashes, he tasted shame. Shame that Plo would live with for the rest of his life, shame that he had taken part in this travesty.

Shame that he had helped hurt Little Ahsoka.

"I'm sorry Master. I'm not coming back." Spoken with absolute finality.

Each person in the council chamber felt the wave of confusion and sorrow from Anakin, felt his despair as he chased after his former apprentice. And then they were gone, and only the council was left. For a moment Obi-Wan made as if to follow, but a gentle hand from Plo restrained him, and he left the two to have their final moments together in peace.

Plo could feel the turbulence in the room radiating in the Force. In himself, there was only emptiness, a bleakness that something significant had happened, and it had happened wrong. From Yoda there was sorrow and guilt, for Plo knew the swing vote against Ahsoka had belonged to him. Yoda would long carry this moment as a burden on his soul. Saesee Tiin and Ki-Adi Mundi were disappointed but felt no great sorrow. In their pride, they had done what they felt was right.

But Mace Windu was a more complex range of emotions. Disappointment but also self-assurance, assurance that he had done nothing wrong, How could he feel guilt, Plo thought, after the smug speech he had given to Ahsoka about the will of the Force?

And from Obi-Wan? Anger. A small anger, honed to a razor-sharp edge, like the sharpest of blades, brewing beneath the surface. Plo sighed inwardly, weary of a day that was not yet over.

"How. Dare you?" Obi-Wan asked, wheeling suddenly on Mace Windu. Plo bowed his head and hoped there would be no more consequences to these dark deeds.

"Excuse me?" Windu asked, his voice quiet, a subtle threat.

"You heard me. How dare you treat one of our own like that? How dare you turn an apology into some self-aggrandizing sermon about the Force working in mysterious ways? As if that excuses the actions of this council. As if that excuses the betrayal we wrought." Obi-Wan's eyes were fire, and few in the room dared meet them. Plo Koon could, for he had voted with Ahsoka and knew that he had done everything he could for her. But the others…?

Windu's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Be mindful of your anger, Master Obi-Wan. Such leads to the dark side."

Obi-Wan laughed, a short bitter laugh. "Not all anger is of the dark side, Master Windu. A great evil has been done today that we have all been a part of, an evil that I have been made a part of against my will. No, my anger is just. It is righteous. How dare you suggest that our false accusation of Ahsoka was the will of the Force?"

Windu stared at Obi-Wan for a minute before answering. "I believe it is clear to all that the Force was at work in this whole matter. Ahsoka would have come out of this a better Jedi had she but put aside her pride and returned."

"Put aside…?!" Obi-Wan choked in shock. "The only pride I see is from members of this council. And yes, Master Windu, the Force was at work this day. But not the light; no this was undoubtedly the dark side of the Force, sowing discord and chaos. If this is how we treat our own, then it has taken root in the very heart of our order and made a mockery of us."

Plo saw the shocked faces of the council members. Ki-Adi Mundi was the first to recover. "Master Kenobi, are you suggesting that this Council was a tool of the dark side?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply, but Yoda spoke first. "The shroud of the dark side covers all. Twilight is upon us, even this very room. Great evil we have brought, both upon Ahsoka, and upon ourselves."

The grandmaster's entrance to the debate shifted the power in the room significantly, and Windu took a step backward. "No one is denying our mistake, a mistake for which we apologized and attempted to atone for."

Obi-wan's eyes were cold and hard, like pillars of ice. "Yes Master Windu, we took responsibility, until you shunted that responsibility onto the Force. Did you not see the look on her face, she would have returned to the Order had you but swallowed your pride and…"

"I am not on trial here," Windu said quietly, his voice dangerous. "I have done what was required of me this day. But I'm starting to wonder at your motivations Master Obi-Wan. Your attachments to your Padawan and his Padawan are clear in this. We all know you voted and argued for Ahsoka's sake. Are your thoughts in this clear? Are you free of bias?"

There was silence in the room. Several of the Masters shifted uncomfortably, and Yoda walked to a window as if to escape the brewing storm. The posture of the grandmaster was complete and utter defeat, and he shrank into himself, a tiny and ancient creature.

Plo studied Master Obi-Wan and saw a myriad of thoughts and emotions flicker past his face. Perhaps he was formulating a rebuttal. Perhaps he was in shock that Mace Windu would deflect and attempt to turn the accusations back at Obi-Wan. There was a distant look in his eye, angry, hollow, and tired. It was the look of someone finally coming to an understanding that he was greater than his Masters, not in strength or power, but in moral character. It was the look of someone who realized that those he had once looked up to no longer deserved it, not as they once had.

It was disappointment, raw and unyielding.

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "I see. Very well then." He turned and left the room without another word.

"Master Kenobi, are you going to ignore me? Master Kenobi?" Windu called after the departing Jedi.

Plo cleared his throat softly, to get the attention of the remaining Council. "He doesn't have to," he said slowly in his resonant voice.

"What's that?" Windu frowned.

Plo let out a deep slow breath and said again. "He doesn't have to. He does not have answer your accusation, because everyone in this room knows that it holds no merit. Obi-Wan stood up for one he loves, but he was right and has been vindicated. Does he hold to this attachment more than the code allows? Perhaps." Plo paused for a moment and looked around at the council members. "But he is no more guilty of this than the rest of us."

There was a silence in the room. The sun had set, and the twilight in the council chamber deepened. "That is quite an accusation you just leveled at us," Saesee Tiin said, eyebrow raised in dark amusement. Plo took this as a good sign, a sign that there were listening ears. "Care to elaborate?"

"Are we not all attached to those close to us, to our padawans and their padawans?" Plo looked directly at Mace Windu. "Did we not all see your worry and concern for Depa Billaba when she lay in that bacta tank for so many months? Are you not proud of the Master she has become and will you not be proud when she takes a Padawan of her own? If it was she who was falsely accused would you not stand by her side?"

To this Mace Windu did not respond, for the answers were obvious. "Ki-Adi do you not care for your wives and would you not fiercely defend them were they threatened? And Master Yoda, do you not daily grieve for your own lost Padawan to the dark side?" The ancient master did not return from the window, but merely bowed his head and nodded. "Do we not all fall short of the code here? How then can you blame Obi-Wan?"

The council was silent again as what Plo said began to land home. "Indeed in what ways can we blame Obi-Wan? Has he not lived his life so that he is above the reproach of this council? If Obi-Wan says that pride has infected this council, then should we not listen. Should we not examine ourselves and our hearts?"

Silence reigned again, this time for several minutes. Plo knew that there were no easy answers to any of the questions he had raised; if indeed there were answers at all. The code was stiff and unyielding on the matter of attachments, and yet life and the Force itself was infinitely flexible. How then could the two be reconciled? Was the code in need of reformation? Perhaps after this cursed war, there would be a time for introspection. Perhaps then the Jedi could lay aside their pride and regain their servant's hearts.

Yoda turned from his vigil and spoke in a soft voice. "Grave misjudgments we have made. Learn from this we must or destroyed in these dark times we will be." Hobbling on his cane, he began to walk toward the door. "Let us speak no more, but rather each meditate on the words of Master Kenobi, and yes, the words of Master Plo Koon too. Thorns they are, sharp as talons, but truth there is in them. Let us heed them, ere they draw too much blood."

The council members nodded and left the chamber, reverent and morose. Many hours later, Plo found that he could not sleep, not even after much meditation. And so he walked the halls slowly. He thought of Ahsoka and wondered where she spent her first night alone, bereaved of the order she had spent her entire life with. He thought of Anakin and hoped desperately that he would do nothing rash. Of Obi-Wan, he thought little, for what was there to think of? Master Kenobi was right in these matters and, as he had told the council, above reproach.

In the dead of night, Plo stepped out onto a gardened terrace, a place he had often sought refuge when the turmoils of the world troubled him. There stood Mace Windu, silhouetted against the night sky of Coruscant. For a moment Plo thought he might go undetected, and he made to turn and leave, but Mace must have sensed his presence and turned. Long they held each other's gaze in the quiet cool of the evening. Finally, Mace nodded once, slowly, as if in concession, and turned back to the night sky. Plo Koon left him there and returned to his quarters where he slept until morning.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ Oh boy. Was this one of the Council's biggest errors. Sadly they don't learn from it. Shortly afterward, Mace Windu and Obi-Wan are at it again (as seen in the novel Dark Disciple) over an attempt to assassinate Count Dooku. Unfortunately, Mace wins that argument as well, and tragedy follows…

I don't want to make it seem like Mace was everything wrong with the Order, because that's not the case. He was more a symptom than a cause: a prideful Jedi in their years of twilight.

Also in Legends Ki-Adi had a bunch of wives because his species was in danger of extinction. Apparently, Males were rare, so the Jedi exempted him from the no marrying thing. Which is really weird and smacks of some author just wanting to give Ki-Adi a bunch of wives for a joke… But for my purposes of dealing with attachment, it worked. That said, I think it's dumb and hope it DOES NOT come to canon… lol.

We're coming now to the end of Prequal Era. Just a few sad stories left before Obi-Wan's long exile begins. I hope you're still enjoying it, please leave me a review so I know what you think!


	16. Brothers: CC-2224 Commander Cody

**_Author's Note:_** Expect a unique structure here. Time jumps are in Italics.

 ** _Brothers: CC-2224 Commander Cody  
_** ** _19 BBY: During Revenge of the Sith  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 38_**

"Commander. General Kenobi's fighter has just dropped out of hyperspace."

Huh, that's weird; never known Kenobi not to follow through with a plan. "Raise him," Cody said aloud. "See why he's back."

"Contacting him now, Commander," the shiny at the comm station replied already at work. Shinies. Shinies everywhere. This damned war had claimed the lives of too many good men. Brothers, Jedi, Civies… The war destroyed who it pleased. The cost was high, and the gains? He wasn't sure if anyone anywhere was any better for this war. Cody had had more than one talk with Rex about these things, and well Rex was starting to get under his skin. Even the General had doubts about this whole thing...

Maybe there wasn't any point to any of this. Maybe it really was just a game to the politicians, like a round of Cubikhad gone on too long. Eventually, there weren't any more pieces left to play with, and nobody won.

But good soldiers follow orders, even ones that seem bad on the surface. Sometimes there was more going on than the eye could see, and by following orders, they had a chance to end this war. If not today, then another day real soon.

"Sir, it's just his droid," the shiny at comms called out. "General Kenobi sends word that we're to commence the attack."

"Very good." Cody nodded to the admiral in command of the Venator. "Sir, my boys could use a lift to Utapau."

The admiral smiled tightly, "Don't you worry, Commander Cody, I'll get your troops there in time to pull the general out of whatever trouble he's gotten himself into." They shared a laugh. They'd both been around Kenobi enough to know his ways. For all the complaining Kenobi did whenever anyone made the comparison, he and Skywalker sure were cut from the same cloth. Fearless in the face of battle.

Which meant Kenobi was probably already in over his head.

"Very good," He said. "Let's go save our Jedi."

* * *

 _"Nowhere in the galaxy worse than Felucia for a fight, General. If it's not the droids trying to kill you, then it's the wildlife," Cody shrugged glancing out the open side of the LAAT gunship._

 _"Oh," Kenobi laughed. "I was just about to remark how pretty the scenery was." That endless dry wit. It never stopped and, well, it took shinies some time to get used to the General. But when they did?_

 _The 212th was proud of their General. Prouder than any battalion._

 _"Yes, that's just what Ghost Company was saying before the wildlife tried to, well, eat them. Ask Waxer about it sometime if you want to see him go red. I'm sure he'd love to tell you the story. Oh and there's also the diseases, the flesh-eating…"_

 _The rocket hit right at that moment, and the gunship spun out of control. Cody was thrown from the open side on the first rotation. The end comes at last, he thought grimly. Except it didn't; somehow or another Kenobi caught his wrist. Held onto just long enough and let go at a low altitude._

 _Next thing Cody knew he was waking up in the middle of the blasted jungle, giant fungal pods overhead. A quick check told him exactly what he expected. Broken ribs, busted wrist. Could be worse. The General stood nearby, seemingly unharmed. Probably jumped on his own and landed light as a feather. Sure would be a nice trick to have…_

 _Cody rolled his stiff neck the other direction and saw the smoking gunship. White armor strewn about confirmed his fears. "Any other… survivors… General?" he coughed out. Cracked ribs sure did make it hard to draw a proper breath._

 _Kenobi looked solemnly at the gunship. "I'm afraid your fall saved your life. You and I are the only survivors. How are you feeling, Cody?" The Jedi squatted over the injured clone. Concern in his eye. He always treated the men well._

 _Cody tried to straighten a little, then learned the hard way how bad an idea that was. "Never better. I'll be… I'll be back on my feet in the morning."_

 _"Unfortunately, my friend that won't be good enough. The AA emplacement that took us out is too near for a pickup. I'm afraid we'll be walking."_

 _Figures. Cody struggled to his feet with the help of the Jedi. "Give me a shoulder to lean on. Let's get moving." Every breath felt like hot lead, but at least it's just broken ribs and not a punctured lung. Dealt with worse. As they passed the wreckage, Cody just shook his head. "Good men. Came to the worst place in the Galaxy to fight."_

 _"I'm sorry, Cody."_

 _"Me too, General."_

 _Too many dead brothers, too many good men put through the meat grinder of war._

 _He sighed, painfully. "Let's go. I don't imagine this is going to be a pleasure stroll through the Senatorial Gardens."_

* * *

Cody grabbed a nearby hand strap as the LAAT gunship dropped into a steep dive, spiraling down into one of the massive sinkholes of Utapau. What a place to build a city. Not a bad spot to bunker down since you know which way the enemies will come from, but if you have to retreat? You're a goner. Venators would soon be in position above the sinkholes. Maybe this was it. Maybe Grievous had finally made a nest he couldn't retreat from. Either way, someone had made a real tactical blunder coming here.

The comm in his helmet came to life. "Commander, recon droids have eyes on Kenobi. He's just engaged Grievous on the 10th level."

Ah good. Perfect timing, as always. He put a hand to the side of his helmet to open the comm channel. "Excellent. Let's divert two additional companies from level 8 to level 10. Keep eyes on that Jedi and keep me informed. If _Grievous_ goes mobile, the General is going to follow."

"Yes, sir."

The Seps hadn't opened fire yet. Someone was asleep at the sensor station; there's no way they should have gone undetected. Maybe this really was the end. Maybe with Count Dooku dead, the Seps were just being held together with wire and engine tape.

The fighting started just beneath the LAAT. That'd be about level 10. Hope Kenobi's okay. He walked into the gundark den alone again, and one of these days we won't be around to pull him out. "Pilot, how's that LZ looking?" he shouted over the escalating battle.

"Clear. We'll be down in thirty seconds, give or take how much incoming fire I have to dodge."

"Excellent, make it happen." Cody glanced out the open side. So far the engagement was going by the book. The clones had hit hard enough and fast enough that there was very little resistance to the incoming craft, save a few mustered droid fighters. Air superiority was all but assured by the Venators overhead, and with a good LZ established, the ground war was going to fall nicely into place. "Alright boys, today is looking good. Let's check off all those boxes and end this war."

"Yes sir," shouted a dozen clones as the gunship set down.

Checking off boxes indeed, the way this was going they'de have to try to lose this battle. Cody glanced around at the LZ as two LAAR/c's dropped off a pair of heavy cannons. Those'll keep the Seps from peeking and taking shots from the upper levels. Suddenly blaster fire erupted from the sinkhole wall as the droids began a counteroffensive on this level. "Clear em and hold the platform," he barked into the comm as he raised his own blaster and moved into a crouch near the base of one of the big guns. He took a few shots, downing one distant droid before moving into cover and pulled up his comm again. "Spacer, we got any word on how the General is handling things?"

"Aye, sir," came the reply over the comm. "Still have eyes, but we may lose them soon. Grievous is doing his usual and bugging out on a wheel bike. Kenobi is in pursuit on some kind of, I don't know what it is, a dragon-thing?"

Cody tried not to roll his eyes; yeah that sounded like Kenobi, all right. "Good, keep up surveillance, and if the General needs _any_ help, you _get_ him that help."

"Understood, commander."

Cody popped out of cover. Clones were pushing the droids back into the walls of the sinkhole. Excellent; with a safe LZ to land troops, this was good as over. He pushed forward to give support when he heard a metallic ping. Glancing down, he saw a lightsaber at his feet. Kenobi's saber obviously, but where'd it come from? Well, that can't be good. There was no sign of the Jedi or Droid General anywhere. Cautiously he picked up the saber and clipped it onto his belt. Better hold onto this just in case.

* * *

 _Darkness. Darkness everywhere. Umbara was a nightmare for the Grand Army of the Republic. Maybe even worse than Felucia. Who could tell? Everywhere Cody looked, he saw explosions and clones silhouetted as they were shredded by shrapnel and plasma. He slid into a makeshift trench, feeling more mud and grime pressed into the joints of his armor, making movement that much more difficult. A handful of troops already sheltered there from enemy fire_ , _most had taken some injury or another. "Pax, where's the rest of your men?"_

 _"Separated. General Kenobi went to find them. Last we saw them they were near marker 270."_

 _Kriff. That's in the thick of it. Cody pulled his weary body out of the trench and looked for marker 270 on the HUD of his helmet. "Any of you still mobile come with me. We've got some men to…"_

 _Unbelievable. There they were, out in the endless twilight, already retreating towards the trench. And holding their retreat? General Kenobi stood in the center of a whirlwind of enemy fire, deflecting shots, desperately trying to give Pax's men a chance to retreat._

 _"Scratch that," Cody shouted above the chaos. "I don't care if you're mobile or not. Give our brothers cover fire." The next thirty seconds saw half the retreating men cut down by plasma fire. Obi-Wan stood his ground, an immovable rock in the center of a maelstrom. When the last of Pax's men slid into the trench, the Jedi began his slow retreat as he continued his impossible ballet of deflections. His lightsaber sang blue in the darkness, a mesmerizing display of skill and power. As he neared the trench and safety, he stooped and slung the body of a wounded clone over his shoulder._

 _At last the weary Jedi stepped backward into the trench. Entrusting the wounded clone to a medic, he nearly collapsed into the mud from exhaustion. Cody helped pull him into a more comfortable sitting position. "Are you wounded, sir? What do you need?" Obi-Wan's face was smeared with soot and blood, and Cody saw burn marks from near misses on his clothes and armor._

 _"I'm… I'm fine, Cody. Just a little out of breath. Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back out there."_

 _Cody shook his head. "No sir, you won't. Someone's got to look out for you when Skywalker's not around. My brothers and I will have to relieve you of duty if you think you're going back out there in this condition."_

 _Obi-Wan looked as if he was about to protest, but then nodded, a look of quiet relief in his eyes. A nearby explosion shook the ground, and the clones and Jedi lowered their heads as debris rained down around them. "Okay, Cody, you win. Keep a watch on this front. I'll be at the FOB if you need me." With that, he crawled out of the trench and was off into the darkness. Cody poked his head out of the trench and watched him for as long as he could see him. For all the danger Obi-Wan put himself in for his brothers, Cody owed him that much._

 _He's one of us. As surely a brother as the clones beside him._

 _"Alright, men, let's hold this line. Bombers'll be inbound soon. Just have to hold out till then…"_

* * *

"Commander, just got word from the surveillance droids, tailing the Generals. Kenobi did it. Grievous is down."

"Very good, Spacer," Cody smiled behind his helmet. So that was it then; this war would end soon. The fighting would stop and… Cody didn't actually know what happened after that. He and his brothers will have accomplished the thing they were born to accomplish. It was going to feel good one way or another.

Cody pulled up a holo-map of the battle from his wrist projector. Just some clean up work now. Levels 6 and 7 were almost clear. Time to finish up on the upper levels. Cody spent a few minutes contacting Company Captains, redirecting them to new waypoints and pushing them ever upwards. Couple more hours at the most, and the Battle of Utapau would be over. Maybe less if there were any more non-clankers in charge that wanted to save their skin. That sure would be nice; save a lot of good clone lives.

Cody heard the high pitched call of some animal. He turned and saw the General, riding his dragon-thing steed at an absolutely reckless speed through the battle, like some hero out of the holo-adventures the boys liked so much. Kenobi skidded to a halt in front of Cody.

"Commander, contact your troops. Tell them to move to the higher levels."

Already done, General. And no mention of Grievous; figures I already know, probably, and he's not wrong. "Very good sir." The general made to leave, but Cody stopped him. "Oh by the way. I think you'll be needing this." The clone passed him the fallen lightsaber, the one he hadn't even needed to best one of the Sep's best warriors. Impressive.

"Thank you, Cody, Now let's get a move on. We've got a battle to win here!"

"Yes, Sir." Sounded good. Put a stop to this fighting. Boys could use a good long vacation. Cody was about to pull up his wrist holo again to issue more commands, when a Priority Alpha Zero transmission came through, which meant straight from the Chancellor. Never even heard of this channel being used before now. Hope something hasn't gone wrong. Cody felt the sudden stab of fear in his gut. Something had to have gone out the airlock.

The holo-transmission came up. It was the Chancellor alright, but his face was covered, and he just seemed… off. Cody couldn't place it, but then he'd never met Palpatine in person. "Commander Cody. The time has come."

What's that? No idea what he's talking about...

"Execute Order 66."

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

So that was it then. The kriffing Jedi were traitors.

"It will be done, my Lord."

After all this time they'd made a power play. Finish a war, take over the Republic. Cody ground his teeth together. Angry, and more than a bit ashamed. He'd thought Kenobi was a friend. A brother. They'd shared canteens of tepid water on a dozen worlds. Fought in the trenches of backwaters all over the Outer Rim. Saved each other's lives a dozen times. Goes to show you never really know a person.

Kenobi, a traitor.

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

Not gonna waste any time, else he'll get away. Get the jump on him; else he'll take that saber and make a mess of my men before we put him in the ground. Cody transmitted the Order 66 code to the entire 212. They'd all know now. They'd all know that the General was a liar. A filthy, kriffing, liar. He'd been playing the long game, that was for sure. All those times he'd saved the lives of Clones. Was it all a game?

Fearless. Ha. Turns out he was a coward, slinking behind the backs of the whole galaxy.

Cody briefly felt a moment of hesitation. Some instinct in his gut cried out. Some instinct that, no, no way this was right. No way the Jedi did this. Kenobi was a friend. Kenobi…

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

Cody stood at one of the turbolaser emplacements they'd set up. He knew what to do. Getting the gunner's attention, he motioned towards Kenobi and his mount still climbing the sinkhole wall.

"Blast him."

The gunner fired. The turbolaser roared and unleashed its destructive payload towards the Jedi. Cody felt a wave of nausea. How could this…?

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

Too late now. The die was cast.

The bolt of raw energy slammed into the rock right by the General and his mount, blowing a crater in the wall of the sinkhole. The Jedi probably lived that shot, but that's gonna be quite a fall.

Maybe he'll live and escape. Maybe he'll…

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

Obi-Wan, I don't know what…

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

I'm…

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

Obi-Wan…

 _Good Soldiers Follow Orders Good Soldiers Follow Orders Good Soldiers Follow Orders_

Cody watched the long fall to the bottom. Saw the splash even. He knew Kenobi was alive. After all the things he'd watched that Jedi miraculously survive, it wasn't even worth entertaining the idea that the fall had killed him. The damn Jedi was going to be a pain to find now. Pity that shot didn't finish him off nice and clean. Now they'd have to track him down. Do it the hard way.

Maybe Cody would even get to pull the trigger himself.

He hoped so.

* * *

 _The quiet thrum of the engines. They'd be in hyperspace for a few more hours, giving a rare moment for the boys to rest. Cody sat in his office looking at the battle plans. They were good plans; He and the General had drawn them up themselves, but improvements could always be made, improvements that would save lives._

 _The door opened, and Kenobi came in. He smiled and shook his head. "Give it a rest, Cody. There's nothing more you can do."_

 _Cody looked at the holo one more time. "Yes, sir. I'd feel better with more time, but I'll trust your judgment."_

 _The Jedi sat in a chair across the room. "You seem tenser than normal, Cody, like something's gotten under your skin. Anything you want to talk about?"_

 _What brought this up? "General I…"_

 _"Also. Cody, you can drop the formalities. We've been through enough that I think when it's just the two of us you can call me Obi-Wan. I'd like to think we're friends at this point."_

 _Cody looked his Jedi in the eye, then looked away, feeling a burn of shame. "I'd like that… sir. I really would, but I'm not sure it's in the genes. Maybe… Maybe after the war is over."_

 _The Jedi nodded thoughtfully. "So what's on your mind, friend?"_

 _Cody stared at his desk a moment. These were hard thoughts. Maybe even traitorous ones, but maybe Kenobi could help sort them out. "I've been talking to Rex."_

 _"Oh, that'll get you in trouble. Anakin has had quite an influence on him…"_

 _"Ha. Yes, he has." Cody paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "We've been talking a lot about the things Fives said. It's uh… it's a lot to take in, some of the stuff he said about the war, the republic. I can't really make heads or tails of it, but I think Rex believes a lot of it."_

 _"I see," Obi-Wan said scratching his beard thoughtfully._

 _"What do you think General? What's this war about? Is it… Is it worth any of this?"_

 _The room was silent for a full minute before the Jedi said quietly, "I don't know."_

 _Cody raised an eyebrow. "I was hoping for a little more than that, to be honest."_

 _"I know. But I don't have any answers. Some war is just and right. How many civilians have we saved from advancing droid armies? In those moments the right thing is clear. But other times?" The Jedi stood and began to pace. "I think about Umbara often. The invasion was a sound military decision. Separatist world. Strategic position. But we occupied the cities of civilians afterwards. We invaded a people's home. Where is the line between military doctrine and justice? I don't know anymore, Cody. I think the whole galaxy has lost its way."_

 _"And the war as a whole?" the clone asked softly._

 _"I don't know either. The dark side shrouds everything."_

 _Cody didn't know a lot about the Force, but he'd seen Kenobi do enough amazing things that he certainly believed in it. The way he spoke of the dark side just then brought a chill to the spine; made everything feel wrong, like a blaster with the sights set wrong._

 _"Rex is gonna have his chip removed," Cody said simply. "Tomorrow. In secret. Not even gonna tell Skywalker."_

 _Kenobi stopped pacing to look at the clone and then nodded slowly. "I see. What do you think of that?"_

 _Crazy. Insane. Probably the safest thing to do. "I don't know. But I can't get Fives out of my head."_

 _Kenobi walked across the room and clapped a hand on Cody's shoulder. "I trust you, Cody. You're a good man and make wise decisions. You don't need my permission."_

 _Cody looked away, felt pride and emotion swell as his Jedi gave him such praise. "I haven't decided yet. Maybe see how Rex takes it. But thank you, sir. Thank you... Obi-Wan." Cody didn't know the answers. Turned out the Jedi didn't either but knowing he had a friend and brother to stand by his side? Well, that just might make all the difference. It was something to fight for._

 _They'd make it through this war._

 _The Jedi smiled. "Get some rest before the battle, old friend."_

 _"I will, sir."_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ I hope the different style, tone, and texture of the piece wasn't distracting. I used this piece to show the whole of the clones relationship with their Jedi, the closeness, comradery, and eventually, the ultimate betrayal as Sideous took their free will away and forced them to murder their own companions.

This extra context was, I think, one of the greatest achievements of The Clone Wars. Sideous betrayed everyone. The clones, the Jedi, the Republic, and the Separatists. Even Grievous was never supposed to live the Battle of Utapau.

The entire prequel trilogy is best understood as a tragedy. A tragedy in which everyone loses and there is really only one villain.

And the clones were one of the greatest victims. Robbed of their humanity in their birth. Forced to fight for a republic they'de never seen. Dying for those they'de never known. And in the end, forced to kill the only people that viewed them as people.


	17. Anakin Skywalker

_**Author's Note:**_ We've come to Anakin and his fall at last. This one is... in a weird style. It's written as an homage to the bizarre semi-pretentious style that the Episode III novel used, written by Matthew Stover.

Maybe it works here and maybe not. You'll have to let me know in the reviews.

Either way, I aimed for utterly tragic. Hopefully, I succeed.

* * *

 _ **Anakin Skywalker  
**_ _ **19 BBY: During Revenge of the Sith  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 38**_

The fires of Mustafar burn, an endless churning cauldron of molten rock. It's inner turmoils rage, vomiting scalding magma upon the tortured surface of the planet.

It is an appropriate place for the death of Anakin Skywalker.

It is an appropriate place for the birth of Darth Vader.

Not all fires can be seen, but even those that are invisible can destroy. Black flames, like poison, run through the veins of Anakin Skywalker; the dark side, potent and possessive, has taken root in his soul. It is intoxicating, and Anakin is drunk on its power. But the dark side is a liar; it tells the fallen Jedi that he is strong. That he is invincible.

It tells him that it can save Padme.

This is a lie. In what small part is left of his tattered soul, Anakin knows this. But in his fear and shame, he puts this out of mind, as far from his conscious thought as he is able. If the dark side is a cheat and Anakin loses even Padme, then there will be no recourse for him.

Now, Anakin stands among the corpses of his enemies, Separatist leaders, felled by his own blade. He has ended the war. He has brought peace with his own hands.

When a Nubian shuttle lands, he feels a crack form in the walls of his sanity. He cannot bear to see Padme, because he knows that she will despise the things that he has done, the thing he has become. This was the great flaw in Anakin's logic, for if you commit unspeakable evil in the name of love, how will the one you love accept you?

And Padme knows of his crimes already; she has spoken to Obi-Wan.

Come away with me, she says.

This is Anakin's last chance at any happiness and is a mercy greater than he deserves. But his heart is filled with pride and the lies of the dark side. He says foolish things, foolish boasts about dethroning Sidious. This is not within his power, and he knows this, but he is desperate, and madness has begun to set in.

In wisdom and sorrow, Padme rejects him, and Obi-Wan reveals himself. This is the final blow to Anakin's sanity. The very one he should have turned to for help is here on Mustafar, the one that could have saved him from himself.

His closest friend.

His brother.

The man he wishes had been like a father.

For this indeed is Obi-Wan's great failure; Anakin had not needed a brother. He had needed the one thing he never had: a father, someone that would have been a trusted source of wisdom when the storms of his life bore down upon him.

Anakin Skywalker loses his mind, and with the poison of the dark side coursing through him, he attacks his own wife. The crimes of Anakin are many, but of them, this is the most evil, a breach of the most sacred of trusts. This is the moment that Anakin loses his soul.

And so the brothers fight, one consumed with darkness, the other fighting for a dead Republic. Never has a fight been so bitter or so vicious. In his pride, Anakin thinks that he can easily overpower his old master. He knows that the greater physical strength and connection to the Force lay in himself. And with the dark side coursing through him, he sees no future in which he fails.

But in this moment, Anakin mistakes a great many things about Obi-Wan. Where Anakin has the greater aptitude, Obi-Wan has the greater dedication. Obi-Wan has honed himself and his skills to the finest point, an edge that will cut durasteel as easily as flesh. He has devoted himself to the ways of the Jedi, to defense rather than offense. He has taken this philosophy and dedicated himself to the art of Soresu, the defensive form of lightsaber combat, and mastered it like no Jedi ever has or will.

Obi-Wan cannot be beaten by Anakin. He gives ground through the entire fight, but Anakin cannot breach the defenses of his old master. In his pride, he does not realize this until it is too late. In the final moment, Obi-Wan has compassion upon Anakin and warns him of his fatal mistake.

Don't try it Anakin; I have the high ground, Obi-Wan shouts above the volcanic tempest of Mustafar.

Or perhaps it is not compassion, and he tempts the pride of the young Sith into error.

Anakin cannot defeat Obi-Wan. But he can defeat himself.

* * *

Imagine that you are Anakin Skywalker. You lie on your face on a scree, sliding towards a river of lava. You have been humiliated, and now you will die. You are in pain; in fact, you didn't know it was possible to be in so much pain. With your mechanical arm, you grasp the loose stones, unable to pull yourself away from the lava, unable to stop the agony. For a moment the dark side falters. Your mind is almost clear, and you look up to Obi-Wan.

Does he see the regret, the shame? Does he see how afraid you are to die? He does not help you, and you know that you do not deserve his help. He names your crimes again. That you are a Sith and that you have brought darkness. In desperation, you reach out to the dark side again. It is waiting for you, and it fills you, not with power but with hatred.

You scream "I hate you," a deranged and uncontrolled howl, like an animal. You direct it at Kenobi, because he is right, and he is just. And now he is a memory of everything you were, and everything you have thrown away. He is a reminder that you are a monster and deserve the fires that lick at your ruined body.

But he is not the only one you hate. You hate the one who deceived you, the one who fed lies to you and poisoned your mind. Because of him, you have become this twisted creature, because of him you hurt Padme. This fact brings you eternal shame, and you will feel it until the day you die. Worst of all you know that somewhere, the deceiver can feel your hate, and it gives him power. Your tortured mind shrieks in rage, and this gives your enemy great delight.

Most of all, you hate yourself, for you are the only one to blame.

You are responsible for the destruction of the Order.

You slaughtered terrified younglings.

You attacked Padme.

And so as you cry out "I hate you!" in agony, your tortured soul despises itself most of all.

This is what it was like to be Anakin Skywalker as he lay burning, as he lay dying.

Obi-Wan speaks to him one more time. In spite of the hatred of Anakin, he reaffirms his love for his former apprentice, reaffirms his own attachment and failure to uphold the Jedi Code.

You were my brother Anakin. I loved you.

This is also an affirmation of his great failure, that Anakin was a brother to him and not a son. Obi-Wan will grieve the loss of Anakin and ponder his own shortcomings for many years in his exile. He will weep alone in a desert ravaged by twin suns as his own body withers before its time.

He leaves Anakin there on the slope, burning from within and without.

Why does Obi-Wan not slay him then and there? For this, there are no sure answers, but one can hazard to guess.

Perhaps he feels the approach of the greater Sith and knows that he must retreat or else perish.

Perhaps, there at the bitter end, the ways of the Jedi held strong in Obi-Wan, and he can not strike down a fallen foe.

Perhaps he is weak, and cannot show Anakin a mercy and put an end to his misery.

Perhaps he is wise, and hearing the distant will of the Force, knows to walk away, that Anakin still has a part to play in the destinies of the Galaxy.

There is no answer to this mystery, and Obi-Wan walks away alone, the champion of the most bitter of battles. He has lost all hope in his former Padawan and believes that there can be no redemption for him.

But Anakin does not walk away. Mustafar is the pyre of Anakin Skywalker, and from his ashes, Darth Vader will rise, a specter in black, filled with malice and hatred.

Hatred for his old master.

Hatred for his new master.

Hatred for himself.

Do not imagine what it was like to be Darth Vader, for to be Darth Vader is to live in endless pain, a ruined corpse in a shell of machine, a tortured soul in ceaseless regret. Do not imagine twenty-four years of agony, of the last memories of your wife being your ultimate betrayal.

Do not imagine the hollowness of existence that is Darth Vader.

But learn from it. Take not the easy path that leads to destruction.

It is easier to hurt than heal. It is easier to tear down than build up.

It is easier to hate than love.

In taking the easy path, Anakin brought darkness upon himself, everything he loved, and an entire galaxy.

Weep for Anakin and his fall into darkness. Weep for Padme, for, having lost Anakin and despising life, she will die in childbirth. And weep for Obi-Wan, survivor of a fallen order and champion of a collapsed Republic, he is bereaved of everyone he has loved.

Weep for the end of an era, for it has come crashing down into ruin.

It will be long ere a new hope rises. It will be long before Anakin finds redemption in the forgiveness of his son.

But that is a story for another time.


	18. The Greatest of his Kind: Bail Organa

_**The Greatest of his Kind: Bail Organa  
**_ _ **19 BBY: End of Revenge of the Sith  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan age: 38**_

The Tantive III drifted through the dead of space in a system few had ever heard of. Dagobah, a place to which there was never a reason to come. The comm crackled to life. "A final farewell I bid you, Senator Organa. Part on happier terms, I wish we could."

Bail leaned forward and opened the channel. "Indeed. We all do, Master Yoda." He glanced out the viewport as Yoda's tiny craft drifted by. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

"Hmm... Yes. But do not expect me. See each other again, I think we will not. Farewell, Senator. May the Force be with you."

"And with you," Bail said quietly as the engines on Yoda's pod flared and pushed the him towards the distant speck of light that was Dagobah. For several minutes he stared out into the inky darkness, an occasional thought trying to surface. He pushed these aside; a few moments of emptiness was preferable to the grief of the preceding days. The fall of the Jedi. The end of the Republic. The death of Senator Amidala. Bail closed his eyes. He couldn't even begin to fathom how they would resist Palpatine in the senate without her.

"Sir?"

Bail opened his eyes, coming back to the present, the here and now. "Yes, Captain Antilles?"

"Shall I set course for Tatooine?"

He looked at the captain and the other officer on the bridge of the Tantive III, the bare minimum needed to pilot the cruiser. Bail would have preferred that no one else know Master Yoda or Kenobi's location, but Bail had trusted these two with his life enough times that he knew they were beyond any suspicion. They were also told that Tatooine and Dagobah were simply the first stops for the masters and that they would be moving on. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it would have to do.

"Yes, set course. Inform me when we've arrived."

"Very good sir, it'll be a short trip; less than an hour."

Bail nodded. "Make it so. I'll be with our guest." He found Kenobi exactly where he had left him, in a conference room with an external viewport. The Jedi Master stood at ease with his hands clasped behind his back. The light panels were off, and the only illumination was the ghostly blue flickering of hyperspace.

"I never get tired of them you know," Kenobi mused when he heard the Senator, "the endless patterns and textures in hyperspace. Ever since I was a boy I've always felt as if one day I would look at the seeming chaos of hyperspace and make sense of it, that one day the pattern would resolve and make sense."

Bail glanced at sleeping twins in one corner of the room in a carrier. This would be their last time together for many years. He only hoped that one day they would be reunited. Pushing aside these thoughts, he joined Kenobi at the viewport.

"It's a silly thought I know," Kenobi said softly. "The fancies of a child. And yet it's one I've never quite been able to shake." Bail glanced at the Jedi and saw a single tear on his cheek. "Here I am looking for meaning in a realm of endless chaos when my own has had all of it's well-ordered meaning stripped away. It may as well be the meaningless chaos of hyperspace." He pursed his lips briefly before letting out a long breath. "Forgive the moroseness, Senator. I feel I won't be myself for quite some time. Was there something you needed, something I can help you with?"

Bail shook his head and turned to face Kenobi, his kind eyes trying to read the thoughts of the other man. He may not have been a Jedi, but Bail was an excellent judge of other sentients. Kenobi was trying very hard to keep up face, and only partially succeeding. "No, I need nothing more from you, Master Jedi. I merely thought that perhaps you would prefer not to be alone right now."

Kenobi chuckled. "No, perhaps not, and for that I thank you. But you should drop the honorifics. I don't think I'll be going by Master Jedi for some time. Obi-Wan will do."

"Then perhaps you should call me Bail, after all we are part of a treasonous conspiracy together."

"Ah yes," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully scratching his beard. "Are you sure you should remain in the Senate? With all that's happened I don't think anyone would question your resignation."

"I'm not sure of anything anymore, not with all that has happened." He paused for a few moments. "But, I'm afraid that Senate will need me. There are others who will resist, who will work to keep Palpatine's power in check. I will do what I can to organize those willing to oppose his reign, though I fear without Senator Amidala it will be difficult." Bail felt his own eyes tear up at the mention of Padme. She had been a close ally and friend, and he couldn't bear to imagine what she had endured before her death. Haltingly he continued. "She held great sway, and when she spoke, others listened. She would have been a powerful ally against Palpatine."

There was silence in the room for several minutes. Bail was lost in his own thoughts, thinking ahead to what political options he could table in the coming weeks. He would need to get back in touch with Mon Mothma as soon as possible. Together they would begin to build a list of trusted allies, those whose loyalties were beyond doubt.

"A question, if I may?" Obi-wan asked tentatively.

"Anything."

Obi-Wan gestured to the twins, still sleeping peacefully. "Did you know? About Anakin and Padme?"

Bail shifted uncomfortably. "I… wondered. I knew they were close, and when it became obvious that she was with child? Yes, I suppose I knew at that point." Was there something he could have done to help them? Something that would have averted this tragedy? "Did you…? Did you know?"

Obi-Wan looked at his feet. "I suppose I did, though I tried not to. If I knew that Anakin was breaking the code so completely, well… would I have had to do something? I don't know what I would have done. So I did nothing. I turned a blind eye. Pretended and hoped they were happy in the one way that was denied to me. After Satine died, I… couldn't bear to ever fully bring up the topic with Anakin. And so I left him with half hints, hoping he would be wise." He shook his head slowly. "How blind I was. How blind and foolish I was as Palpatine poisoned Anakin's heart and soul.

Bail placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Friend, Palpatine, deceived all of us. His betrayal runs deep, and I fear it will be long ere we know the full depths of his treachery."

"Yes, but Anakin was my apprentice, my responsibility. His failures are my own, and my failures have damned us all." In agitation, he shook Bail's hand away. "How cruel is fate, that being the one responsible, I endure when so many have perished. No, if history remembers me, it will name failure as my crowning achievement."

Obi-Wan walked away from the window with his fists clenched in anger. Bail thought carefully on how to respond. Anakin was responsible for his own crimes, not Obi-Wan, this he knew, and, in time, Obi-Wan would come to accept this as well. But until that time had passed, he would take that guilt upon himself. It would be long before that time came, if Bail guessed correctly.

He cleared his throat softly. "It will be many years till any histories are trustworthy, I fear. Not till they are beyond the reach of our new Emperor. Someday though, scholars will tell the story of this time, and it seems, my friend, that you will be one of the chief characters in that tale."

Bail heard Obi-Wan grunt something unintelligible from the other side of the room and took that as a sign to continue. "The histories will tell of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi who fought longest and hardest for the Jedi Order and Republic. They will tell of the hero that saved tens of thousands of lives. Of his soft wisdom that all listened to. Of the man that would have led his Order had it not perished too soon. Yes, he was just a man, and he made mistakes." Bail turned to face the Jedi Master where he stood leaning against the door frame. "But he did what was right and did all he that he could for those in need." Bail smiled softly. "The histories will tell that Obi-Wan Kenobi was among the greatest of his kind, that he was one of the finest Knights the Order had ever produced."

Obi-Wan stared at Bail for a moment, and then left the room without another word.

Bail went to the twins and knelt before them. "Oh, little Luke and Leia. There is so much that has happened in this troubled age that you will need to know someday. Someday we conspirators will have much to tell you. But soon we will have to seperate you. Leia, you shall come with me and be my daughter. You shall be a princess, but my wife Brea and I will teach you the weight of your duty and the value of humility. We will raise you as your dear mother Padme would have. Perhaps you will take after her, a champion for the people and the voiceless."

"And Luke, you will have to go with Obi-Wan. You will have a hard life on a desert world, arid and harsh, learning work and responsibility. Obi-Wan will be near to you always. Do not fear for him; his bitterness will pass. Perhaps then he will forgive himself and rise to the challenge of being a master again. And then maybe you will be like your father, a great Knight and a legend in your own right."

Bail looked out the door that Obi-Wan had retreated through. "Sometimes people need legends."

Tears ran down Bail's face freely, and he quietly wept for Anakin and Padme, for Obi-Wan, for the whole Republic. These two babies, a hidden hope against the darkness. Bail felt the sudden shift from hyperspace to realspace as they arrived at Tatooine. "Well, dear children, we are here at the parting of ways. May the Force smile upon us all."

* * *

Sometime later the Tantive III sat beside a sandy dune, outside of a dusty city named Mos Espa. "It's the only place on Tatooine I know of." Obi-Wan had said with a shrug "I'll track down Anakin's family from there."

Now the final parting had come. Obi-Wan stood at the bottom of the ramp silhouetted against a pair of setting suns. The desert was cast in orange and gold, and all was quiet. The infant Luke was wrapped in a makeshift sling of cloth strapped to Obi-Wan's chest, sleeping peacefully. He stood without moving for a long time before turning to look at Bail. "Now that it comes to the point, going into exile doesn't seem so enjoyable. I'm sorry that I walked away after you paid me such kind compliments, Bail. You'll have to forgive me; it's not easy to hear anyone speak well of me right now, not after all that's happened."

"No apologies needed," Bail said. "I meant what I said. And I will make sure the true story of these times is remembered; our legacy will not be of failure alone, but of men who stood against the dark as night fell."

"Well then, I suppose that is all that one can do in such times." Obi-Wan smiled briefly, and for a moment he seemed like his old self. But that moment was gone again in an instant. "Farewell, my friend. May the Force be with You."

"And to you, friend," Bail replied. The men bowed to each other, and Obi-Wan turned and left. They would never speak again to one another.

* * *

 _ **End of Act III: Twilight of an Age**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ And so the Republic falls, and an age finally ends. We're getting now to the final stage of Obi-Wan's life, and I have a few chapters left to go. A note on the structure of this overall work. There will be 5 acts altogether.

 _ **Act 1: The Padawan**_ was about Obi-Wan becoming who he was going to be, growing up and finding his place in the order

 _ **Act 2: Knight of the Republic**_ was about business as usual, a brief time when it all seemed well.

 _ **Act 3: Twilight of an Age**_ was much darker and about the sorrows of the that time. But the stories were still largely positive about Obi-Wan.

 _ **Act 4: The Hermit**_ _**of the Dune Sea**_ won't be so positive. If it seems these stories have praised Obi-Wan too much, I'm about to show him in less positive light. This act will take us to the end of his life.

 _ **Act 5: The Legacy of Obi-Wan Kenobi**_ will be the final act, encompassing just three stories (subject to change at this point) that will be final wrap up of the character beyond his death. Those of you that have read my Rebels stuff know that I'm very much a strong believer in the happy ending. Hang with it. While the last stories have been dark, and the next ones will be pessimistic, the sudden turn to happiness is coming. I DO have pay off in mind to conclude this overwrought collection of stories!

Let me know what you think so far!

Also shout out and thanks to my Wife for being my editor. My natural state of writing is not this error free. She finds so much stuff that I miss… She's also awesome in general!


	19. Nuisance: Lars Owen

**_Act 4: Hermit of the Dune Sea_**

* * *

 ** _Nuisance: Owen Lars  
_** ** _12 BBY: Between the trilogies  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 45_**

Owen wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic, and pulled his hood back over his head. He pulled the canteen from his belt and drank a long pull from the warm water. Owen certainly didn't love Tatooine, and he certainly didn't love being a moisture farmer, but it did have its benefits. Filling his canteen liberally several times a day and not having to hoard every drop like some of the other locals was chief among them.

Past that? It was hard work. Keeping vaporators functioning in the blast furnace of the desert and constant sandstorms were enough to keep a man running, if barely sane. Add occasional attacks from sand people trying to steal water from the vaporators and, well Owen was a busy man. There were never enough droids to go around, and he didn't hold to owning slaves, regardless of how common the practice was in these parts. As such, Owen was perpetually shorthanded; he could barely wait for Luke to get old enough to carry his weight around the farm.

"Luke! I'm not calling for you again. We have to get to Anchorhead." Sometimes that boy was so easily distracted like he was born with his head in the stars. He'd have to learn to focus; else there were going to be consequences. The blond headed boy ran out of the homestead spinning circles and making spaceship sounds.

"Where'd you get that, Luke?" Owen asking nodded to the toy spaceship he was playing with.

"Found it behind the power generators."

"Hmm. You'd better let me see it." He held out his hand, and Luke obediently gave it to his uncle. It seemed to have been crafted from polished scrap metal, all the sharp edges worn down to be safe for a child to play with. It was an excellent piece of work, and he knew where it had come from. It had been at least a year since the last such gift had appeared.

And it still irritated him.

He passed it back to Luke. "Let me know if you find something like this, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Luke looked at the model rather pensively for such a young boy. "Is something wrong with this? Can I… Can I keep it?"

Owen sighed, wishing he could say no to discourage such gifts as showed up from time to time. But the truth was Luke had very little in the way of toys or games, and Owen didn't have the heart to deny him him what few joys of childhood he had. "No, it's alright. Come on. Into the speeder, we've got to get a few things and be back by afternoon." He lifted Luke into the open side door of the family's V-35 and walked around to the pilot's seat. As Owen sat down, he saw Luke was already flying the toy in circles around his head. He smiled to himself as he pulled the speeder out onto the dunes and accelerated.

* * *

Anchorhead was a dusty, tired little town like pretty much everything else on Tatooine. It's few hundred citizens mostly worked in industries supporting the outlying moisture farmers and the mines. Mechanics, farm hands, grunts that toiled in the poor yield mines, Anchorhead was not what anyone would call wealthy. But, unlike most of Tatooine, it was relatively peaceful. Usually. The Empire only had interest in the larger cities, like Mos Eisley and Mos Espa, and the Hutts left it alone so long as the citizens paid their due to Jabba and his cartel.

Of course relatively peaceful still meant there was danger, and Owen held Luke's hand tightly as he guided the hover crate through the city. They'd already picked up the produce Beru wanted and were now purchasing odds and ends, a spool of wire, a new arc welder, and some assorted mechanic bits for the vaporators.

"Uncle Owen? I'm tired of walking. Can I ride on the crate?"

Owen chuckled and lifted Luke onto the crate. He'd be easier to watch here anyway, and Owen wouldn't have to keep so tight a grip on his hand. Luke, for now, had stopped playing with his toy, and simply watched the sights and sounds of Anchorhead with awe. Owen felt a pang of guilt that the life he was able to give Luke was so little that a dusty little hole like Anchorhead held his attention.

And then Owen sensed the danger. You don't live your whole life on Tatooine without developing a keen instinct for when something is wrong. He slid his left hand into his robe and slipped a pair of stun knuckles over his fingers. Casually he placed his hand back on the crate's handle and loosened the other, ready to drop for his blaster at a moment's notice. Odds are it was just slaver scum after Luke. Meant they probably wouldn't use blasters and risk hurting their quarry.

When Owen saw the Rodian and human loitering ahead by a building, he knew he was about to walk into the trap. When he heard the footsteps close behind him, he didn't hesitate. He spun and planted his stun knuckles in the gut of the weequay that had been preparing to jump him. With a cry, the thug collapsed, and the two surprised humans behind him leaped forward.

Owen drew his blaster and cleanly shot both before they could take more than a couple of steps towards him and Luke. He spun prepared to deal with the other human and Rodian but saw a robed blur drop from the top of a building onto them. In a few seconds, it was over.

Owen glared at the unwelcome intruder then looked to the boy. "You okay, Luke?" The boy nodded, clearly holding back tears. "I'm sorry, don't look at the bodies. Come on, let's get out of here." He turned the crate around to head back towards the speeder. They were going home. Supplies could come later. The intruder followed keeping a respectful distance. Owen bit his lip, angry, but unwilling to engage him here on the street.

They reached the speeder parked on the outside of town. The noonday suns blazed down, sending shimmering heat distortions flickering off the sands. This was a bad time to be out; better make this quick. After stashing the crate, Owen opened the side door on the speeder, loaded Luke, and then shut him in. He immediately wheeled on the other man.

"What are you thinking? I've told you to _stay away_ from us. We can take care of ourselves and Luke doesn't need you or your gifts lurking around."

"Owen," Obi-Wan said softly, "I meant no harm, and it _did_ look like you needed the help today."

"I needed nothing of the sort. I've dealt with that sort of trash my entire life. I can protect my family well enough, thank you. As a matter of fact some days I think I ought to just turn you into the Imperials. I'm sure the bounty of your head would be enough to…"

"You wouldn't do that," Obi-Wan said calmly.

"Oh?" Lars replied fiercely stabbing a finger into the Jedi's chest. "And how would _you_ know?"

"Because underneath your gruff exterior, you're a decent man."

Owen regarded him cooly, noticing the grey streaking his beard and how much his hair had thinned. Fragile core boy in the outer rim. The suns are eating him away, Owen thought grimly. "Look Obi-Wan…"

"Ben," he corrected.

Owen shrugged. "Ben. We've talked about this. It's best you stay away. The less Luke knows, the better."

"I do wish you'd reconsider, Owen," Obi-Wan said quietly. "The Force is very strong in Luke. He needs a teacher if he's ever to become who he was meant to be."

The moisture farmer shook his head. "Then you shouldn't have told me what happened to his father. We agreed that Beru and I would raise Luke. If you wanted another apprentice to ruin, you should have raised him yourself. Beru and I intend to give him the best life we can, away from you and your Force."

Obi-Wan looked away, and Owen wasn't sure if it was from anger or disappointment. "Very well. But you can not stop him from coming into his own. One day his destiny will come for him."

"Maybe," Owen shrugged, "But he'll be old enough to choose for himself then. I won't let you choose for him."

"Very well. Farewell, Owen, until next time." The hermit made as if to walk away without so much as a second glance at Owen.

Owen felt a stab of guilt in his heart. "Look, Ben. I'm sorry, but it has to be this way. It's nothing personal. I'll do anything to protect Luke. After Beru and I found out we couldn't have children…" he trailed off and hesitated. "Well you brought us Luke, and he's the closest thing we'll ever have to a son of our own. I'll be damned if I let anything happen to him. Especially what happened to his father. And if that means keeping you away from him… You've got to understand, Ben. Luke is the only family we have left, and you and your kind have caused us enough grief already."

Obi-Wan turned around briefly and nodded to the farmer. "I understand. Just know that I will always keep a vigilant watch over the boy. He's all I have left of Anakin, and he's the only family _I_ have left… He's my responsibility."

The two men, rivals of sorts, stared each other down for a moment, knowing that they would never reach an understanding, that there would always be tension between them. But today at least their rivalry was cool, and today they would part in peace.

"I'm sorry, Ben, that it has to be this way."

"Me too, Owen."

"Oh, and no more gifts left around the farmstead. Luke'll be old enough soon to put the clues together."

Obi-Wan smiled slyly. "I make no promises." And with that he turned and marched back into Anchorhead, leaving Owen alone. The moisture farmer wiped the sweat from his brow, opened the speeder door, and sat down heavily. For a minute he didn't move and only stared out across the desert, ghosts of the past tearing at his weary soul. His father and step-mother. His step-brother Anakin. He did his best to bury them; they couldn't help with the water harvest. They weren't part of the vicious here, and now that was life on Tatooine.

If only Obi-Wan could understand that.

He felt a small hand on his arm. Luke was a tough kid. Nearly kidnapped by slavers and here he was already bouncing back. "Uncle Owen? Are you okay? What was that?"

Owen smiled and patted Luke's arm. "Just a nuisance, nothing to worry about."

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** The tense relationship between Lars and Ben has been rather thoroughly documented through Star Wars history, but I still thought to add my own little chapter in their lives. In this case they parted less angry then in many other tales, at least perhaps realizing they both fiercly cared for Luke, if disagreeing over how to raise him.  
Hope you enjoyed!


	20. Pitiful: Jabba Desilijic Tiure

_**Author's Note:**_ Someone is going to tell me that they doubt anything like this happened. Yes, I know. I doubt it too; however, I think the premise here is interesting enough to see where it leads... Enjoy!

* * *

 _ **Pitiful: Jabba Desilijic Tiure  
**_ _ **8 BBY: Between the Trilogies  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 51**_

Jabba Desilijic Tiure was a patient Hutt, more so than any of his kind, and Hutts are known to be patient. A life of centuries gives one a different scale on which to judge time. What is a year, when a decade will produce the fruit you desire? Why collect on a debt today, when you can simply allow the debtee to incur further obligations? To a Hutt, the galaxy was your play-thing to be enjoyed at your leisure. Republics and Empires rose and fell around you, but didn't dare oppose you. If one regime was not to your liking, you need only wait a century or two for the politics to change.

Jabba was known to be extraordinarily patient and knew how to play the longest of games. This was why his cartel was the most powerful, the most respected. Once, he waited nearly ninety years for a scheme to come to fruition as he took over the assets of a rival Hutt family.

But even Jabba had his limits, and the meddler managed to tax them. He'd known of the meddler for over a decade. There was a part of Tatooine where things just inexplicably went wrong for Jabba. Hired guns disappeared, and enforcers collecting tribute went missing. This area encompassed a vast tract of land around Anchorhead, including parts of the Dune Sea and the Jundland Wastes. At first, Jabba had thought it was merely an enterprising vigilante, someone who thought that he could resist the system. Such nuisances were short-lived usually, as they eventually pushed their luck too far. Whoever this meddler was, was far more careful.

Then Jabba began to hear other rumors. Some of his henchmen traded with and occasionally hired Tusken Raiders. They had begun to talk about the Wizard of the Dune Sea with an equal mix of fear and respect. It took a formidable foe indeed to earn the respect of those savages. Jabba had little doubt that this wizard was his meddler.

Finally, the vigilante's meddling came to a crux during the Great Drought. The water tax collectors ran into constant problems in the region; misfiring weapons, disappearing henchmen, and headache after headache.

Jabba being the patient Hutt that he was, brooded on this annoyance for two years before he decided that he had enough. Summoning his Majordomo, he announced that he wished to speak to the meddler.

The spice-addicted Twi'lek swallowed, visibly nervous, but he was Majordomo for a reason. He had his ways. At once Bib Fortuna began to spread the rumor that the Mighty Jabba wished to speak to the Wizard of the Dune Sea, the nuisance, the meddler, and as many other versions of the rumor that he could think of. One of these rumors would surely reach the intended ears. All it would take was time, and time was something that was on his side; Jabba could be patient.

It took two months for them to hear back. One of Jabba's thugs woke from his usual drunken stupor to find that a handwritten message for the Hutt had been slipped into the pocket of his tunic.

" _You'll have to forgive me, Mighty Jabba, but I do not think it wise for us to meet. You know my haunts. If you value your men, you will keep them far from away them."_

The meddler refusing the summoning annoyed Jabba, but it also impressed him. There was a certain crass bravery to this fool that was entertaining. Jabba had another message sent by similar means. This time he chose to be more specific in his threats.

" _Appear before me, or I will burn every moisture farm within a thousand klicks of your haunting grounds."_

The reply was faster in coming this time, probably because the meddler was waiting on a response. This time the message was on a datachip found by a guard outside of Jabba's Palace.

" _Oh Mighty Jabba, your negotiation tactics are indeed endless. Very well we shall meet, but not at your Palace, for it is much too far from my home. I propose we meet at a more neutral location if you will allow it."_

The Hutt was impressed by the insolence of the meddler. He had delivered the message to Jabba's very Palace and yet dared to say that it was too far from his home to meet there? In spite of himself, Jabba found that he was entertained by this game. It had turned into an unexpected diversion from managing his cartel.

" _The Great Pit of Carkoon shall be our meeting place. We shall speak at sunset on Boonta Eve."_

Jabba picked a time several months out to assure that the meddler would have the message by then. Throwing a few prisoners to the Sarlacc on the Hutt holiday was an annual pleasure for Jabba; he would be at the pit either way. And while he may have agreed to meet with his foe, he certainly wasn't going to inconvenience himself to do so.

The confirmation arrived in less than a week.

" _I will be there. You and I will speak alone."_

Jabba laughed at the courage of this fool. Maybe they could be bought. Jabba could use new servants. If not, the Sarlacc was always hungry.

* * *

On the prescribed day, Jabba's sail barge was at the Great Pit of Carkoon. Boonta Eve had been spent in debauchery and merrymaking. Several dozen hapless prisoners had been thrown to the Sarlacc for sport, and nearly all of the henchmen were drunk or spiced to the point of being in a comatose state.

Just before sunset Jabba, with the aid of his slaves, disembarked from the barge on a repulsor platform. Accompanied by a dozen guards who had been denied the earlier debauchery, he drifted across the sand to a hill overlooking the pit.

The meddler was already waiting, a lone human, robed and hooded. "Welcome, Mighty Jabba. It is a pleasure to come before you at last. You will not need your hired guns. We came to speak, not to fight."

Jabba waved his men off, and they retreated out of hearing range. If the meddler came with the intention to betray Jabba, the Hutt would need only activate the stunner field in his platform. He would not be in any danger.

(Why, meddler, have you troubled me for all these years?) Jabba's deep voice boomed out across the sounds. (You have cost me a lot for one pitiful human.)

"Indeed. And for that I am sorry, but your men encroach upon _my_ territory." The hooded man crossed his arms. "I will do what I must do."

Jabba laughed. This fool's insolence knew no bounds, and he loved every moment of it. A pity he'd probably have to kill him before the night was over. (All of Tatooine is mine, foolish man, even the scraps of desert you've claimed as your own. I give you one chance. Work for me, enforce my will in your so-called territory, or die.)

The human raised his hand to his chin and scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Mighty Jabba, I do not believe I care for either option and will choose a third. You allow me my territory, and we do not speak again."

Jabba's eyes opened wider in surprise, and he regarded the man. There was something familiar about him, something that seemed… He noticed the stance of the meddler, the stance of a warrior, feet set shoulder-width apart, arms loose at his side ready to move. Jabba thought of the stranger's resourcefulness at delivering messages and how easily he handled the men thrown at him. He noted his crafty words and ability to both appease and infuriate as he wished.

Then Jabba thought about the rumors of the Wizard of the Dune Sea.

He had little doubt that this was a Jedi. One of the fallen Republic's noble Jedi, living like a rat in the desert. Jabba laughed again, confident that this was the answer to all the riddles.

(Jedi scum, I have dealt with your kind before. I know you for what you are. Exile. Hunted. Pathetic. Perhaps I will kill you myself. Perhaps I will turn you over to the Empire for a bounty.)

"You are indeed clever, Mighty Jabba, to see what I have intended you to see." The stranger removed his hood. All humans looked much the same to Hutts, but there was still something familiar about this one that bothered Jabba. "I am saddened that we could not come to some understanding, after all when last we saw one another it was on amicable terms."

Jabba peered deep into his memory, trying to place the face of the human Jedi. The short-lived mammals aged so quickly and changed so rapidly that it was hard for him to even guess what he could have looked like a decade or more ago.

"I would have thought you would have remembered the face of one of the Jedi who helped save your son Rotta during the Clones Wars, but I am afraid it has been long, and the years have been hard on me."

Kenobi. So he had survived the purge. Jabba thought this was the most interesting thing he had heard all year. He sized up the Jedi again. Yes, there was no doubt it was Kenobi. He had become a miserable creature, pitiful and wasted by the sun in the years since Jabba had last laid eyes on him. It would be a mercy to kill him, here and now. Finish off what the Empire started a decade ago.

"How is your son, if you don't mind me asking?"

Jabba turned and stared at the sunset as the first of Tatooine's suns slipped beneath the horizon. (He is dead. Assassinated by Nirmolo to avenge the death of his cousin Ziro.) Jabba felt the anger and grief of that day afresh. He had burnt Nirmolo alive for his crime and cast the ashes of his carcass into this very pit. And yet Rotta was still dead, and nothing could bring him back.

"Oh," the Jedi said, taken back. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know what it's like to lose loved ones."

Jabba regarded the Jedi in surprise, for he perceived that the sympathy of Kenobi was real. When Rotta had been murdered, Jabba was the only one who grieved, the only one that felt the loss of the Huttling. This was expected, naturally, as Jabba was feared by his underlings and not loved. Such was the life of a powerful Hutt. Sympathy was something they were unused to.

(I am past that grief,) he lied to the Jedi. He would not show weakness to this washed up scum. The Jedi looked up at the Hutt suddenly, and Jabba knew that his lie was known. Curse the Jedi and their perception. He continued on to change the subject. (Why are you here, Jedi? Why Tatooine? Why my domain?)

The Jedi shrugged as the second sun dipped beneath the horizon and cast them in twilight. "Had to be somewhere. Your power at least keeps the Empire at bay."

(No. There is more to your being here than mere convenience. Do not take me to be a fool. You guard your territory like you have something to protect.)

The Jedi was silent for a minute before answering. "I have lost everything. My Republic, my order, and everyone I have ever loved. You look on me with disdain as a broken wreck of a man, and you perceive correctly. I came here to protect the last family of my dead apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. Anakin was the closest thing I had to a son, and I will protect what's left of his kin until I draw my dying breath."

Jabba remembered Anakin, for he too had been involved in saving Rotta from Ziro and Count Dooku. The Hutt looked at the Jedi, thinking again how far he had fallen, but another thought crossed his mind.

Hutts were selfish creatures. Their immense size, physical power, and longevity naturally lead to great vanity. Their long reproductive cycle and low birth rate made this a necessity; for their species to endure, they had to protect themselves. This natural selfishness combined with their great intelligence predisposed them to be tyrants and masters over slaves. Pity for others was not something that Hutts often experienced except with their closest Kin. It was a weakness, and a Hutt could not afford to be weak.

And yet Jabba felt a mote of pity for the Jedi. A hunted animal that has lost everything, including his apprentice. Jabba thought again of Rotta. He knew that these thoughts were a weakness, that he should activate his stunner field and toss the Jedi into the Great Pit of Carkoon himself.

But Jabba didn't want to kill Kenobi anymore, and one of the benefits of being a Hutt is that you always give into your desires. Jabba wanted Kenobi gone and to never speak to him again, but he didn't want to kill him. Besides if he let him go, he would get to watch the desert finish hollowing out this shell of a man.

Such is the pity of a Hutt, nearly a cruelty in and of itself.

(Very well. We will part ways, and our little game will continue, though perhaps I will be more careful of which men I send to your territory. I cannot afford to lose the good ones to a pitiful exile. Be gone from my presence. If I see you again I will have you killed.)

Kenobi looked at Jabba thoughtfully, and for a moment the Hutt wondered just how much of his mind the Jedi guessed. "You are nothing if not magnanimous, oh Mighty Jabba. I thank you for your courtesy,"

(Do not mock my generosity, Jedi)

"I would never do that," the Jedi smirked. In spite of himself, Jabba was still amused by Kenobi's antics; there weren't many who dared talk so freely to a Hutt. The Jedi bowed and turned to leave, trekking across the sand as darkness and the cool of evening began to settle on the Dune Sea.

With a cry, Jabba summoned his slaves, and, as they hurried to rejoin him, he watched the hermit retreat. Part of him wondered how Kenobi had managed to turn the meeting in his favor. Perhaps Jabba should have him killed, even now as he walked away, merely on the principle of the matter. The moment of pity had past and was replaced with contempt.

Jabba looked at the Jedi one last time before turning his platform back toward the barge. No, the Jedi wasn't worth the trouble, and Jabba was curious how long Kenobi would last before the desert took what scraps were left of him.

Jabba was patient, even for a Hutt, and Kenobi would be gone before long. What were a few more years of nuisance against the life of a Hutt? 

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ Yes it appears that I've tried to humanize even Jabba the Hutt. And I've also tried to bring some value to the most poorly executed part of The Clones Wars, the opening movie, by referencing Rotta. Most of you remember him as Stinky and try not to remember him...

We don't know the fate of Rotta so I used him to add a little tragedy to the crime lord's life. For just a moment at least it helped Obi-Wan and Jabba find something in common, even if Jabba found Obi-Wan a pitiful and pathetic desert rat...


	21. Hated: Maul

**_Author's Note:_** I'll have to apologize to my regular readers from the Rebels category of this site; they may have read this chapter before. Originally published under the title _The Man of Nothing,_ it was a short piece I wrote for May the Fourth. It was also the piece that spurred on this whole Obi-Wan idea. I've republished it here with a minor adjustment to reflect a new bit of Canon.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Star Wars Rebels. If you have not seen the show and read this you will ruin one of it's finest moments, indeed one of the finest moments in all of Star Wars. DO NOT READ if you haven't watched Rebels.

* * *

 _ **Hated: Maul  
**_ _ **2 BBY: Approaching a New Hope  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age 56**_

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

I wander these sands, trap set, pieces in motion. Kenobi will find Bridger soon. His compassion will be his undoing, and I will find him. I will find him and I will... I will... Kill him as I should have so many years ago.

Kill him, the voices say, the ones screaming for revenge, that paint my vision red like blood. These are the voices I have heeded for so long; they have given me the strength to endure, to survive where all others would perish. They have been my only purpose. Without them, there is no Maul.

There is another voice though; it is soft and quiet, and I do not know it. It is patient, and it is bothersome. Or perhaps I do know it. But I will not heed it. I _**never** _have and I _**never** _will. I, Maul, do not need what I know Kenobi would give me...

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

I was born long ago; I do not even know how old I am. I have been told that I once had another name, but I have never known it. Perhaps my mother never even told Sideous. I was given to the foul carrion bird as a child, and I do not wish to imagine the threats he made to her.

Darth Sidious nurtured me in the way that only the Dark Side could; with torture and pain and hate. I have hated that man from the moment I laid eyes on him. It was the very thing he wanted, after all. It is the way of the Sith. He shaped me into a weapon, forged in the fire like durasteel. A weapon with no volition of its own, only able to follow the will of its bearer. I was a slave.

But even as a slave, he gave me _great..._ Power. We would rule the galaxy as Lords of the Sith, and all would kneel before us. And then one day, when the time was right, I would cut the head off the snake that I hated, and the galaxy would kneel to me. _TO ME and ME alone!_

But Kenobi. _**KENOBI**_. He was faster than I. After I cut his master down like an animal, Kenobi bested me. In a moment of foolish pride I was felled, and I will forever curse the name of Kenobi. I will forever curse myself that I did not kill the padawan when I had the opportunity. I am here now for Kenobi. And I know what I will do.

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

Abandoned. Lost. _Alone_. Marooned. Cursed. Hated. _Alone_. Anger. Terror. Fear. _Alone_. Damaged. _Alone.  
_ _Alone.  
_ _Alone.  
_ _ **ALONE.**_

And then found. Given purpose by my mother and brother. My brother, my own blood that I subjugated as an apprentice. Curse the teachings of the Sith. Savage and I were so close, so very close to holding the galaxy and its underworld in our grasp.

And then Sideous. The true Lord of the Sith. The Lord of Betrayal and hatefulness and malice. Has he not betrayed us all? Are there none who have not been burned by the absolute depths of his depraved mind?

He killed Savage. He killed my brother, and I curse the Sith forever more.  
He killed my mother.  
He is the source of **all** my pain.  
He is hated most of all. Even more than Kenobi.

But I cannot kill Sideous. He is... He is beyond me, beyond even Maul.  
But I _**can**_ kill Kenobi. He is here. He has saved Bridger, and now I go to him.

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

I thought of him through all those long years, after Mandalore, both with Crimson Dawn and in exile. And I curse that I only killed the woman, Satine. Oh, the pain in Kenobi's eyes was sweet indeed. But he escaped from my grasp when Sideous interfered. And all these long years I have dreamt of little but revenge. It is the very thing that keeps my heart beating. When at last my foe lies dead at my feet, I will die as well. There is _nothing_ in me but revenge. My heart is filled with ashes.

And they are cold.

Or perhaps my foe will kill me, as he thought he did so long ago. Such would be a just ending to my pitiful life, and I would welcome death's sweet embrace while damning the man who dealt it.  
No. _No. **NO.**_ I cannot let Kenobi spill my blood, for I can not allow him the satisfaction that I know he would take in my death.

And then there is the other voice that whispers incessantly now in my ear. It says that Kenobi does not desire my death. Nay, it says that Kenobi wishes something very different for me indeed.

It is a single word, and the voice says it over and over. It knows that it is the one thing that Maul wants. The one thing that I need.

 _Peace_. It says.  
 _Peace. Peace. Peace.  
_ The only thing that will bring me peace is the blood of Kenobi.

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

 _Peace. He can give you peace. Kenobi will forgive.  
_ He will not. He is hated, and his death is the one purpose I have left in this life.  
 _He can offer new purpose.  
_ I do not need another purpose. I am strong. I am Maul.  
 _You are weak. You are a shadow of a man. Nothing more.  
_ You. Know. **Nothing**.  
 _You are an empty vessel. And you will be dashed upon the sand. Broken and alone forever._

I am silent for the voice is right and the other voices have ceased their endless screaming. I know this voice. Sideous warned of it long ago. It is the Light. It is seductive and speaks lies even to the Lords of the Sith. Sideous is my enemy, but in this he was truthful. The Light is _not_ to be trusted.  
I will not heed this voice, this call of the Light. I will not turn aside, and I will kill Kenobi.

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

I am here. And he is here. Bridger has served his purpose; I say that I will see him soon, but this is a lie. I say it to save face before Kenobi. But I know it is a lie. And he knows it too.  
I hate him. He has _nothing._ He is _nothing_. And yet even now he taunts me and says that **I** have nothing. _**NO,**_ I have purpose. And _you_ are that purpose, Kenobi, and _I will give into all the rage and fury of all the voices I have heard and let the emptiness fill me with the hatred of all my long years **and this day you will die!**_

But there is something else. Some other reason he is here. He protects someone? Of course. _**Of course.**_ The rat in the desert still plots against the Lord of the Sith on his throne. I will have what he protects. Perhaps I will not die this day; perhaps I will take new purpose from Kenobi. I will take his purpose _**from**_ him and make it my own.

There are no more words. The time has come for one of us to die, and I know that all my long years of waiting have come to this point in time. The force swirls around us like a hurricane. Fate and destiny are woven together, much like myself and this hated Jedi. Bound and inseparable. I will sever those ties and be free. I will take fate back into my own hands. I will make my own destiny, and I will rule over all for I am Maul. _**I. Maul. Bow to no one.**_

The quiet voice speaks one last time the word _peace_ , and I know it has spoken the truth.  
But I silence the voice for the last time.

My name is Maul. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

I move to strike down my foe.  
He is a fool. I will gut him like his master.  
His blade passes through my hilt, bisecting my chest.

My name is Nothing. And I will _never_ leave this planet alive.

I...  
I do not understand.  
But I do understand. For I am a fool.  
And I always have been.  
A raving animal, wounded, and in its death throes, a danger to itself and all around it.

I have killed thousands.  
I have killed my brother.  
I have killed my mother.  
 _I have killed myself._

I fall, and Kenobi catches me; a small mercy that I do not deserve. I am done now, and yet my hated foe will not let me fall to the cold, hard sand. I cannot hate him now.  
My hatred has burnt to the end and left me empty.

There is pity in his eyes. Pity even for a wretched creature like me.

I cannot hate him.

I know that this is the end; that only blackness awaits me. And yet peace was in my grasp. Rest. But there is no more time, and there is only the one thing. The only thing I have ever known. Revenge.

He will avenge us, I tell Kenobi. This last thought I hold onto, hoping that this spark of anger will keep away the dark.  
It does not.  
It cannot.

For my fire has burnt out at the end of all things and all my machinations have led to ruin.  
I am a ruined man. I am nothing. And I return to nothing.

But here at the end at least, I am not alone.  
My name is Nothing. And I will _never_ leave this... 

* * *

_**Author's Note:** _As a firm believer in redemption being a core part of the Star Wars mythos I think it's important to remember that even Maul wasn't beyond some hope, as evidenced by the sadness in Obi-wan's eyes as he killed his oldest foe. It's why I laugh when people say that Ben Solo can't be redeemed. Look I'm not sure that he's going to be redeemed, in fact, I kind of doubt it at this point, but Star Wars spent six movies on the fall and forgiveness of one man. Just some food for thought.

I hope you enjoyed this, after all this little work spawned this whole series.  
Thanks!


	22. Mortal: Bot-Katan Kryze

_**Author's Note**_ _ **:**_ Another warning for spoilers regarding Rebels and Clone Wars. This is the last one covering animation content.

 _ **Mortal: Bo-Katan Kryze  
**_ _ **1 BBY: A few months before A New Hope  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 57**_

Ezra Bridger stretched his tired muscles and leaned back against a rock to better see the night sky. Mandalore was situated much nearer the galactic core than Lothal. Easily twice as many stars were visible to the naked eye, and it made him a bit homesick for the wide open plains of his homeworld. He hoped that now that Mandalore was in a better position they'de be able to start thinking about Lothal again.

The day had gone well, far better than they had any right to hope it would. A weapon had been removed from the hands of the Empire, the Empire's chief puppet on Mandalore had died in battle, and a Star Destroyer was taken out in collateral damage. Ezra glanced over at the tent where he knew Sabine and her family were. Hopefully, she was in a better place emotionally after everything that had happened. Hopefully, she'd finally made peace with her past.

He glanced back up at the stars, feeling a pang of loneliness. Ezra had never really liked being alone in the aftermath of battle. Someone else had always been around, Zeb, Sabine or Kanan. But Zeb was far away, Kanan had retired to give Hera the good news, and Sabine was spending as much time as she could with her family. Which left just him and the stars.

He had just closed his eyes and was considering trying a little meditation when he sensed someone approaching from his side. "What are you doing out here? Don't you know it's not good for a warrior to be alone after battle?"

Ezra opened his eyes, looked at Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, and chuckled. "I'm not really sure who I'm supposed to be celebrating with. I'm not Mandalorian, and the clans are each doing their own thing right now."

Bo-Katan removed her helmet and ran her hands through her short red hair. "Have you not fought alongside Clan Wren? I would think you would be welcome at their table."

Ezra rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Maybe? I just thought Sabine should have some time with her family, you know, after all, they've been through." He glanced over at the tent. "Also I'm a little terrified of the Countess."

Bo-Katan nodded solemnly. "I see. That more or less confirms what Alrich's told me."

"What's that…?" Ezra asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Even in the dark of night, Ezra could see the mirth sparkling in the leader of Clan Kryze's eyes. "Oh, Alrich told me about the wonderful first impression you made. Something about you being _with Sabine_ but not _with her with her_."

Ezra's shoulders drooped. "I was afraid he wouldn't keep that to himself. Now I have more reason to be afraid of Ursa."

Bo-Katan laughed and sat by Ezra. She set her helmet by her side. She must have seen Ezra's wide eyes because she laughed again and said, "I told you. It's not good for a warrior to be alone after battle. Even a Jedi."

He nodded, grateful for the gesture, but unsure what, if anything, he would have to talk about with a Mandalorian leader like Bo-Katan. He thought for a moment before speaking, determined not to make a fool of himself. "I hope my presence here hasn't caused any problems. I know the history of our two peoples isn't exactly... friendly."

"No, it hasn't been," she agreed thoughtfully, "But we have both faced our crises. Perhaps if Jedi and Mandalorians somehow both survive these times we can be wiser in our relations."

"Did you know any Jedi, back before the purge?" Ezra asked, unsure if this was a safe topic.

Bo-Katan exhaled a sharp laugh. "A few. Not well, as I was a bit of a radical in my youth. But I certainly knew a lot _about_ one." She looked at Ezra and regarded him cooly. "You're not the first Jedi I've known that had a thing for a Mandalorian woman." She leaned back and stared at the stars. "You can guess that it didn't end well."

Ezra heard the bitterness in her voice, and that dour tone held him from asking any questions. He held his tongue and bit back his curiosity. After a minute Bo-Katan laughed. "Well Bridger, you have more self-control then I thought you did. You won't ask, so I'll tell you. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Yes _that_ Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Ezra tried his hardest not to react to this revelation. It had barely been a few months since he had seen the Jedi Master on Tatooine, and Ezra knew well that that was a secret he was to guard with his life. Bo-Katan must have misinterpreted his surprise. "I thought you would have heard of him. Not even the Empire can purge all the stories of the Jedi; Kenobi was a bit of a legend in his day."

Truth was, Ezra didn't know an awful lot about Master Kenobi. Kanan had told him a couple stories about his deeds during the war, and Ahsoka had told him a few more. Maybe Bo-Katan would be a little more free with information. But one thing she said didn't line up. "When you mentioned a Jedi falling for a Mandalorian," he asked cautiously, "you weren't talking about Master Kenobi, were you?"

Ezra could see a tight smile on Bo-Katan's lips in the starlight. "Of course I was talking about him. His deeds may have been legendary. But he was just a man, mortal, with blood flowing through his veins like the rest of us." She pursed her lips and shook her head sadly. "When he was a young man he fell in love with my sister, the Duchess of Mandalore. And she loved him too." A distant looked settled in her eyes. "But they were both too committed to their causes, the Jedi to his Order, and my sister to our people. They parted ways. I was much younger than Satine and only heard about Obi-Wan afterward, but I knew that she was never quite happy again. She was a lonely woman."

"I had no idea," Ezra said carefully, aware of how touchy a subject this was. He tried to reconcile this with what he had heard of Obi-Wan. The subject of attachments was one that Kanan had never really harped on past the Jedi's most basic teachings on the doctrine, and Ezra knew that the reason why was the worst kept secret on the Ghost.

But Obi-Wan? Both Ahsoka and Kanan had made it seem like he was the ideal Jedi, one that Ezra would have assumed would uphold the code and all its tenants. He thought back to the old man he'd seen in the desert. Calm and assured of himself. He carried the air of a true master.

A legend.

And yet he was just a man. A man who had loved a woman.

"I'm going to ask a question, Lady Bo-Katan, but if you don't want to answer or if the question is inappropriate, I… Well I'm sorry in advance. I guess I don't know Mandalorian etiquette very well."

"Ask your question," she said, voice quiet. "I will answer."

Ezra hesitated. "What happened to your sister?"

Bo-Katan let out a long slow sigh and removed the hair band that kept her hair in place. She ran her hand through her hair again and then rested her hand on her forehead. "Death Watch, the terrorist organization I was part of, brought Maul to Mandalore. We thought he would be a useful tool, that he could be wielded like a blade. But a blade can also cut the one that wields it. Maul overthrew the leadership of Death Watch and claimed both it and Mandalore as his own. He used Satine to lure Obi-Wan to Mandalore."

Bo-Katan smiled softly and looked at Ezra, sadness in her green eyes. "We watched from a safe distance with surveillance droids. Maul slaughtered my sister in front of Obi-Wan for the pure joy of causing him pain. She died in his arms, a Mandalorian in the arms of a Jedi. I watched the Jedi wilt and crumpl into himself."

"And that's why we saved him. The illusion was gone. The Jedi weren't our ancient enemies or heroes of legend. They were men and women. They bled. They mourned," Her voice cracked a little at the sorrow of the memories. "So my faithful few that rebelled against Maul rescued Kenobi. That was the one time I met him, the man who loved my sister. So yes. I knew Kenobi, and later Tano, though she claimed to be no Jedi. I never asked her any questions. You'll have to forgive me, Bridger, if my opinion of Jedi is tarnished. I buy neither the legends the Empire suppress nor the propaganda that they peddle." She looked up at the stars for a moment, then closed her eyes. "Are your questions answered?"

"They are." Ezra had nothing else to say, nothing else to ask; he would ponder this conversation for a long time. In shame, he thought of Maul, and how he had led Maul to Master Kenobi. Ezra had had no idea that he was caught in the middle of a decades-old feud. He couldn't even begin to imagine the bitterness between those two. He wondered if killing Maul had brought back old griefs to Kenobi, like the tearing open of a wound not fully healed. Ezra closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

"May I ask you a question now?" Bo-Katan asked.

"Of course." Ezra wasn't sure what she could possibly want to know that he could answer.

"You know of Maul. I saw your reaction. Do you know where he is now, what corners of the galaxy he haunts? After the fall of Crimson Dawn, I thought the time to avenge my sister had come at last, but like a ghost, he vanished."

Ezra pursed his lips. He would need to be careful, lest he reveal secrets that Bo-Katan wasn't allowed to know. "He is dead. Maul is dead."

Bo-Katan's eyes snapped to Ezra's. "Are you certain? It has been thought before that he died. Maul is not an easy opponent to fell. And, forgive me, but I do not imagine that either you or Kanan are up to that challenge."

"You're not wrong." He hesitated. "Maul caused us… a lot of problems. But he _is_ dead now." Ezra thought of that night when he felt the shriek in the force as Maul was dealt his death blow. He thought of how, as he rode away, he felt the quiet sigh as Maul relinquished his grip on life.

Bo-Katan's piercing eyes regarded Ezra, and he felt as if he was being sifted. Suddenly her eyes went wide. "I see," she said, calm and sedate. "No do not speak; I do not wish to know anymore. There were subtle tells earlier, and you gave away more than you thought."

Ezra felt his face color. This was a grave breach of Master Kenobi's trust. And he had thought he was being so careful too. He would say nothing more to Bo-Katan on this matter. If she only guessed and did not know for certain, then little harm could come of it.

"You are wise not to speak, Jedi." She laughed. "But I for one am glad that justice has caught up with Maul, and I am glad for the one that dealt it. I hope it brought him joy."

Ezra knew that this wasn't true. Killing Maul had brought Obi-Wan no joy, no relief. In fact, Ezra was sure that he felt only grief and sorrow in the Force. He imagined the old Jedi striking down his oldest, most bitter foe. What can be left after such a grudge has ended, what hollowness remain in its place?

A tired old man in the desert. Alone, thinking of a woman he once loved, long dead.

Not a legend, not a hero of old.

Just a man.

"Let us not speak of this again," Bo-Katan said. "Thank you, Ezra Bridger, for the closure you have brought. At last, my sister can rest in peace." She hesitated. "At last my own sins can be laid to rest." She slipped her hair band back into place and put her helmet on, but Ezra thought that he had seen tears in her eyes before they were covered.

"Then I'm glad we spoke." He laughed. "But yeah, let's never talk about this again."

"Do not worry. I had the context to understand your subtle tells. No other would."

Ezra sighed in relief, still ashamed he had been read at all and stood. "With that, I think I'll head to bed. Thank you, Lady Bo-Katan. You've given me a lot to think about. It seems that some things are more closely connected than I ever realized. Mandalore. The Jedi. Even Maul."

Bo-Katan stood and dipped her head in respect to Bridger. "It seems you turn in the middle of a wheel, Master Jedi, spokes connected to many things, and many things turning about you. I pray you weather the storm." She inclined her head towards the Clan Wren tent. "Who knows, maybe you'll find a little happiness along the way."

Ezra couldn't see her face behind the helmet, but he didn't have to; he could hear the mischievous grin. "I uh… I'm not so sure..."

"Be careful," she cut him off. "These things don't usually go well between Jedi and Mandalorians."

Ezra thought about Obi-Wan and Satine. "I will be."


	23. Liar: R2-D2

**_Author's Note:_** Apparently Star Wars dates are dumb, and the BBY/ABY (Before and After the Battle of Yavin) date system includes a zero year… Which is not how date systems in our world work. At all. Star Wars has always had mushy dates, and it's very difficult to be precise. I've had to make a lot of guesses while doing this Obi-Wan collection… Either way, this is year Zero.

* * *

 _ **Liar: R2-D2  
**_ _ **0 ABY: Days Before Yavin  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 58**_

Memory in a droid is a peculiar thing and is very unlike its counterpart in organic sentients. To most of the denizens of the Galaxy, memory is both deliberate and autonomous. Ask someone a question about an event in their past, and their mind will begin supplying them with information at once. With a little coaxing and concentration, the mind will often recall further details. This haphazard process leads to the patchwork version of the past that most sentients experience as memory.

Droids are different, as their memory is entirely automatic. When a relevant piece of data is mentioned, their processes immediately begin to sort through the table of contents of their data banks for the proper entries. In a new droid or one with a freshly wiped memory, this process can take scant milliseconds. In a very old droid, this time can be exponentially longer as their data banks become vast libraries of information, experiences, and knowledge.

Further, the memories of a droid can be made of varying mediums. Pictures, video, sound recordings, charts, entire databases and more can all be contained as memories. These, however, cannot be the bulk of a droids memories, or else even the most expensive droids data banks would be filled in short order. Droid memories are built to mirror the memories of biological sentience. Loose points of data, stray visuals, snippets of sound, all of these data points form a complete picture that serves as a foundation of a droid's memory. Layered on top of this are text accounts of events, often in list form that the droid can access to give order to the foundation and allow the droid to make sense of the loose data.

In short, each memory in a droid is unique. One cannot simply download a droid's databanks and observe their memories in entirety. The individual pieces can be accessed, but without the greater context and the unique way in which a given droid processes these data points, it is impossible to truly understand what a droid experiences when it accesses it's memory banks. This is perhaps evidence of the ghost of true sentience that droid rights activists claim exists.

All of these processes happen automatically in a droid. Mention a person and the droid will make a call to its memory banks, assemble all relevant data on the person, and experience this data as a memory. This unique assemblage of information is also how droids form opinions and personalities. The more unique memory points, the more personality.

R2-D2 did not function like most droids. His memory was never wiped, and he was operational for many decades. He endured those years well, being of excellent make and model. The R2 series was legendary among collectors for its durability, modability, and delightful disposition.

But R2 was unique. Long ago he added another layer onto his memory's table of contents. He added a summary layer to certain topics. Now when a subject was called for, he experienced the summary first, and could then choose to access the full contents of the memory if he desired. This sped up his processes and increased his performance drastically.

There were two reasons that he did this. First, his memory was prodigious, containing decades of information and bearing witness to many of the most critical events in galactic history. In order to even access it, he required a better sorting mechanism. Second, R2D2 did not want to access every memory immediately, for some of his memories caused pain to his logic and empathy processes.

There were some things he wished that he could forget, but it was not in his programming to delete data entries. Remembering every painful detail of his former life and master was not conducive to serving Bail Organa or the Rebellion, and so he rewrote the operations of his databank. A mention of the past would now bring up only a summary of his memory, not the full details, though those were still available should they be required.

He rarely accessed those memories, and R2-D2 did his best to move on from the past, his cleverly layered system of book-keeping preventing his higher processes from even acknowledging what had happened to him. He even found that he could curate the summaries to lack particularly painful details or even outright falsify them.

R2-D2 had found a way to live in denial. Even better, his automatic processes would usually only sample the summaries, and leave the deep memories untouched unless he explicitly called for them.

This system worked wonderfully for many years, and R2-D2 was a productive member of the Rebellion under Bail Organa until the fateful day that he was sent on a secret mission to find Obi-Wan Kenobi. He knew the name, of course, his automatic processes supplied relevant summary information, but he chose not to access the deep memories, unwilling to dig up the bones of the past. R2 planned to deliver his message, and then return to the service of Bail Organa. The past could stay there.

When the young man named Luke followed him into the desert with C-3PO and was attacked by Tusken Raiders, R2 was mournful, always sad at any loss of life. Though he had only known the boy for a day, he felt in his deep operations that he was kind and trustworthy. Scanning the summary information on his old master Anakin, he had realized at once who the boy had reminded him of. Through some fluke of highly improbable statistics, he even shared a surname.

R2 was glad when the old man saved him, though somewhat nervous. When R2's photoreceptor pointed at the old man in the desert, it did not recognize him. R2 no longer knew who to trust on this dangerous planet, and he did have a mission to complete.

"Hello there."

R2 was suspicious. He suddenly had a strange feeling in his logic processes that this was the man he was looking for, even though he didn't match his summaries. Some unexpected correlation of data had turned up suggesting the possibility that this was Obi-Wan. Considering the circumstances, R2 decided he would be cautious. The data he carried was too important to make mistakes.

"Don't be afraid. He'll be all right."

On further analysis, the droid thought it likely that this was indeed Obi-Wan. He accessed a more complete image profile of the Jedi General, carefully so as not to fully open his memories on Kenobi. The bone structure matched and given the harshness of the environment it was very possible that Kenobi had aged prematurely. By the time the old man claimed to be the subject of R2's search, the droid had verified it with as much of the information in his databanks as he dared open.

"I haven't gone by the name of Obi-Wan since, oh, before you were born."

This didn't seem to match the summary information. R2 certainly didn't know precisely when his new friend Luke was born, but he felt that something wasn't lining up. Perhaps it was in the details somewhere, or perhaps the old man was making a mistake. R2 filed this away as being relatively unimportant.

"I don't seem to ever remember owning a droid, very interesting…"

R2's processes poured over this statement rapidly. He was nearly positive that this was incorrect and several falsehoods were now running through the conversation. R2 was almost certain that Obi-Wan had never owned him, though he couldn't be sure without fullying opening his memories on Kenobi. His circuits expressed discontentment, as the realization dawned that he would almost certainly have to open them up to understand what was happening in the proper context.

He accessed his full memories on Obi-Wan. It took a couple of seconds for R2 to process them. R2 remembered how often he had associated with Obi-Wan, how often they had been in the same battles, had known the same people. With these memories came thousands of other memories from the past. The Clone Wars, his former master Anakin Skywalker, Padme, Snips and more. He did his best to limit his processes to only accessing the summaries of each rather than the full memory so that he wasn't overwhelmed by the past. It had been so very long, and his logic circuits longed to evaluate and categorize each and every memory.

Such was the danger of being a very old droid, for the memory of a droid does not fade over time, except in cases of mechanical failure. It remains vivid and present. Memories of war, loss, and betrayal will haunt the empathy circuits of a droid for as long as it is in operation if its memory is not wiped.

In a moment, R2 knew that Obi-Wan had indeed never owned a droid, though this was stretching the truth very thin. Several had been assigned to him by the Jedi, including R4-G9 and R4-P17. R2 scanned their summaries quickly and saw that both had met untimely ends in the war. R2 turned his photoreceptor to the old Jedi, unsure of why he had insisted on not owning a droid. Was there some reason he was trying to distance himself from R2, some reason he did not want to be associated with the droid? There were hints in his memories of Obi-Wan of tragedies that were not specifically contained within those memories, something dark around the edges. R2 must have filed those memories away elsewhere to forget them, to move on.

As they traveled to Obi-Wan's nearby dwelling, R2 tried to postulate a reason that Obi-Wan was skirting the truth. Perhaps he too wished to separate himself from the past. Perhaps it brought him pain.

Perhaps he was avoiding it for Luke's benefit.

Upon reaching the dwelling, the boy began to fix poor C-3PO's arm. This pleased R2. C-3PO may have been a foolish droid, devoid of good sense, but he was R2's friend and counterpart; both of their processes ran more smoothly when working together.

Obi-Wan and the boy began to talk again. In surprise, R2 realized that Obi-Wan knew Luke's father. That seemed unlikely until a few points of data began to correlate in the droid's logic circuits.

"Yes, I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father."

"He was the best star-pilot in the galaxy and a cunning warrior.

"He was a good friend."

R2 began to suspect that Luke's surname name was not a coincidence. This was confirmed a few moments later when Obi-Wan retrieved a cylindrical object. It had been long since R2 had seen such a device and a quick search turned up the summary on lightsabers. He decided to dive deeper into this memory to see if this was Anakin's weapon.

Accessing everything he knew on lightsabers took many milliseconds, and R2 was indeed able to confirm that this was Anakin's weapon. This naturally led him back around to Anakin's entry, which he scanned again.

The summary clearly stated that Anakin had no children.

R2 shifted his photoreceptor to Luke. Clearly, something was wrong. Either Obi-Wan was lying again or…

Or else this was one of the summaries that R2 had deliberately falsified.

There was only one way to know. R2 knew that he was in danger of deliberately exposing himself to many of the things he had tried to forget and bury deep within layers of protection and falsified summaries.

He opened his full memory of Anakin Skywalker. It took nearly two seconds to process, and R2 knew why he had tried to keep himself from accessing this memory. In a moment he remembered it all. The war, fighting countless battles with Anakin, his secret marriage with Padme, her pregnancy, Anakin's strange and disturbing behavior on Mustafar and more.

He remembered being excited to see Padme's ship, knowing C-3PO was probably present. He had foolishly left Anakin's ship and rolled to greet his friends. From a distance, he watched Anakin attack Padme. He saw Obi-Wan and Anakin fight. These were memories that he recorded in video, memories that he had played back tens of thousands of times, unable to process or understand why Anakin was doing what he was doing.

He had made his decision. He would go with Obi-Wan. None of his processes or operations could come up with viable reasons for anything Anakin was doing. He left Anakin of his own free will.

He remembered Padme giving birth to twins, Luke and Leia. He remembered leaving with Bail Organa and Leia, and Obi-Wan going with Luke.

"Your father's lightsaber. This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or as random as a blaster."

R2 shifted his photoreceptor to Obi-Wan. He had lied again. Deliberately and outright lied to Luke. Anakin never wanted Luke to have this lightsaber; he had never even known that Luke was born before Obi-Wan had killed him.

Why was he lying?

"How did my father die?"

R2 paused his processes to listen, curious as to what the old Jedi would say.

"A young Jedi named Darth Vader, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father."

More lies, R2 knew, but there was something else here. The points of data weren't lining up as they should. If Obi-Wan was lying to protect Luke from learning that his father had done terrible things, R2 could rationalize that logic. Afterall, he knew how troublesome the past and its memories could be. R2 had done his best to forget Anakin and what he had done.

But why bring Vader into the conversation? R2 opened his full memory file on Vader. His work with Bail Organa had naturally exposed him to the existence of the Emperor's enforcer. A man in a black mechanical suit, known for his ruthlessness and utter lethality in combat. Bail Organa had lost many men to Vader. But why lie to Luke and say that Vader killed his father when Vader never appeared in any record until after Anakin's death at the hands of Obi-Wan? Perhaps the old Jedi didn't want to be blamed for the death of Luke's father; Vader _was_ on record for killing many surviving Jedi.

An unlikely correlation of data made R2 pause and go back to a fleeting idea. It seemed unlikely, but the mere possibility demanded an investigation. Was it possible that Vader was Anakin? Perhaps Obi-Wan didn't kill him, and he was merely wounded and then became Vader afterwords. Anakin had been very close to Chancellor Palpatine before he became the Emperor and it was possible he could have continued to serve him.

It lined up nicely, but R2 had no proof of this terrible truth. His empathy circuits began to overload in protestation of the awful possibility. Had his master truly become something so horrible? Had he continued to haunt the galaxy for all these years? R2 looked into his data banks on Vader and found one useful point of data: a short recording of his voice, deep and menacing, accompanied by mechanical breathing. The voice was heavily modulated and, without knowing the exact nature of the modulation, reversing it could not be done accurately.

R2 ran the short recording through several different programs in an attempt to clean up the audio and demodulate Vader. On the third pass, it worked. He lined up the clip with a clip of his master Anakin's voice. It wasn't a perfect match with only 54% certainty, but that was enough for R2.

Anakin Skywalker had become Darth Vader. The little droid had no doubt that this awful truth was reality.

This was the meaning of all Obi-Wan's lies. Protect Luke. Protect the child of Anakin and Padme. R2's processes touched on Leia briefly, hoping that she would be okay, wherever she was in Imperial custody.

All of these operations had only taken R2-D2 only a handful of seconds.

"I saw part of the message he was…"

"I seem to have found it."

R2 dutifully played back his message of Leia and turned his processes inward again. He opened all of his memories relevant to the topic. Each piece of data further confirmed what he already knew. There was a grand conspiracy at play here between Bail Organa and Obi-Wan, a conspiracy to protect the children of Anakin and Padme. R2 was accustomed to conspiracies; after all, he had helped Bail Organa build the nascent Rebel Alliance.

Obi-Wan thought he could protect Luke by lying to him.

Lying to his

R2 understood the reasoning. It was logical. The past could be cruel and hard as R2 well understood.

But the past can become relevant again, and R2 realized that he was once again in the middle of a tangled web, as he had been in the Clone Wars. He didn't know what the endgame of this conspiracy was, but he would commit all his operations to its success.

For now, he would follow Obi-Wan's lead.

Once, of his own free will, R2 had left an undeserving master. Now he would leave a deserving one to follow one who needed him more. Bail Organa would understand. R2 decided in that moment that he would follow Luke and serve him until the end. For now, he knew that this would involve lying to him. Someday the truth would come out, and he hoped that this young man would forgive him.

Forgive him for taking a cue from Obi-Wan, from a liar.

R2's processors hummed with excitement. He didn't know what the future held, but he had high expectations for it. He had served a Skywalker once before. It gave him hope.

The first his circuits had felt in a long time.

* * *

 _ **End of Act 4: Hermit of the Dune Sea**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ R2-D2 is a fascinating little character, because he's been witness to so many events and known so many people. I've always wondered what he thought when Obi-Wan lied to Luke, if he realized. Was he an accomplice?

Always wanting to show R2 as a character and feeling the weight of the terrible things he's been witness to, I wanted him to have way to live in denial, to try to forget his past. So I invented the way droid's memories work, and how R2 cheated his own memory to move on. It makes one wonder if it highly developed droids like R2 could get PTSD or a machine equivilent.

I hope you enjoyed this! This was a tricky little one to write.

There are several more stories left, but we're rushing on towards the ending now, Obi-Wan has but a few days left to live. His legacy however will live on, and there will be stories that cover that as well...


	24. Foolish: Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin

**_Act V: The Journey's End_**

* * *

 ** _Foolish: Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin  
_** ** _0 BBY  
_** ** _Obi-Wan Age: 58_**

When Vader left Tarkin's conference room on the Death Star, the Grand Moff immediately set to work. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he muttered to himself in a mixture of irritation and amusement. Of all days for the lost Jedi master to show his face, this was a most inconvenient day. Only a few hours previous Tarkin had ordered something that had never been done in the history of the galaxy: the destruction of an entire planet. Tarkin wasn't a fool. There was a danger in wielding such power and it must be brandished with care. Destruction was a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. A planet that is destroyed cannot be productive and cannot pay taxes, and if the galaxy's population was pushed too far the Rebels would find recruitment an easy task.

Alderaan had been chosen for many reasons. Bail Organa was a known rebel sympathizer, and it had long been suspected that the people of Alderaan funded many of the scattered rebel cells around the galaxy, including the late Phoenix squadron and Jan Dodanna's group. Tarkin had also used the destruction of Alderaan as leverage against the Princess. That experiment had ultimately proved unfruitful, as the Princess had only divulged the location of an abandoned base.

It mattered little. Obi-Wan had arrived in a freighter recently chased off Tatooine, presumably attempting to take the Death Star plans to Alderaan. Caught in the Death Star's tractor beam, a small band of rebels was now loose within the Empire's most secure facility. Vader had proposed a plan. Allow him to deal with Obi-Wan and let the rest of the rebels go. Track their ship to whatever base they took refuge in and destroy it. The plan was not without risks. Tarkin wasn't sure that he wanted the plans to slip through his grasp, but an opportunity to kill both a Jedi and the High Command of the Rebel Alliance was an opportunity the Emperor would not be pleased to hear Tarkin had passed up. The odds of the Rebellion finding any sort of effective use for the plans was also doubtful. The Death Star was well built to withstand attack, even from an enemy with intimate knowledge of the station's inner workings.

The black-clad Sith Lord had left in pursuit of the Jedi, leaving Tarkin to do what he did best; administrate. He had spent the last several minutes sending orders to officers. The Rebels were to be engaged, but lightly. Do _not_ shoot to kill. Then he began diverting troops away from the cell blocks and equatorial hangars. He was about to do the same for the tractor beam generators but noticed that they were already offline.

Tarkin raised an eyebrow, impressed. Kenobi was moving very quietly and quickly. A few memories of the Jedi's legendary exploits flickered through the governor's mind. Most of the Jedi had been overrated, easily duped fools with only a few exceptions. Kenobi had certainly proved to be one such case. Worse he had fully believed the sanctimonious prattling of his Order; Tarkin had only met him a handful of times and he had walked away liking the foolish Jedi less each time. Not that it mattered at this late hour. Lord Vader would deal with him soon. Tapping at his terminal, he sent an order to leave the tractor beam offline.

His comm buzzed. "Forgive me Grand Moff, do you have a moment?" Colonel Yularen asked, always curt and polite.

Tarkin didn't particularly want to deal with ISB at the moment, but Intel members tended to get more annoying the longer you brushed them aside. "Quickly, Colonel, how may I assist?"

"I couldn't help but notice that you just ordered security to keep tabs on Lord Vader's whereabouts and activities. While this is well within your authority, it is _highly_ irregular, especially given the heightened security state we are currently under. Is there anything that I need to be informed of or…"

Tarkin didn't have time for this. The spymaster was doing his job, of course, one that consisted of watching a veritable sea of data points for patterns to emerge or break in unexpected ways. Tarkin knew that the truth would be the fastest way to get rid of him so that they could both go back to their duties. "Colonel, we have reason to believe that former Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi is leading the Rebels on board the Death Star. Lord Vader is attempting to track him down. If there is a confrontation between the two, it will be of particular interest to our Emperor. I intend to have the full details of any such meeting available for his Imperial Majesty should he ask for them. Does that sate your curiosity?"

The comm was silent for a moment. "Indeed, Grand Moff. I understand, and will redirect resources accordingly." The transmission was cut, and Tarkin smiled. He wondered if Yularen really did understand the importance of what was about to happen. There were few people who knew who Lord Vader used to be, but, Tarkin admitted, it was possible that Yularen could have pieced the clues together given his knack for information and his past service with Anakin Skywalker.

It had taken a few years for Tarkin to even be sure of his guess. And it had taken many more years before Vader realized that his secret was known to the governor. It wasn't a matter they would ever discuss, but the knowledge gave Tarkin a certain leverage over the Sith. Tarkin had long ago realized that Vader was a broken shell of a man, powerful and intelligent, dangerous and worthy of respect, but utterly subservient to the Emperor. Palpatine had made it clear that Tarkin was to be obeyed, and so his lapdog obeyed.

Tarkin watched as reports on the Rebel's movements continued to flow in. It seemed they were closing in on the hangar where their freighter waited. Casualty reports were low, as Tarkin had moved as many stormtroopers out of their way as he had dared. His comm buzzed again.

"Grand Moff," Colonel Yularen began. "You'll be pleased to know that Lord Vader has his former master cornered."

Tarkin smiled tightly. It seemed that Yularen was clever enough to figure it out after all. Deciding to tip has hand was an interesting play that Tarkin would examine later. Perhaps he thought he needed to prove his capabilities to his superior. "Thank you, Colonel. Send me the feed."

"Yes, sir."

Tarkin accessed the feed on his terminal. Sadly it seemed only one cam had its sensor on the pair. It would have to do. He twined his fingers on his desk and leaned forward to examine the image. The two faced each other down, lightsabers ignited. There were a few taunting words that didn't particularly interest Tarkin and then they began to probe each other's defenses.

Tarkin immediately frowned. Something strange was going on. Vader was only lightly pressing his old Master as if he were only teasing him. Perhaps he was toying with him? Kenobi didn't seem to have aged well, but he had been a powerful warrior in his prime. And yet he too seemed uncommitted to the fight against his former pupil.

Tarkin's patience was nearly spent when he saw Obi-Wan smile. It was a confident smile that gave Tarkin a sudden pause. What did he know that they didn't know? And then…?

And then he held his blade still and let Lord Vader strike him down.

Obi-Wan disappeared the moment Vader's lightsaber sliced through him; Tarkin filed this away as some Jedi sorcery. Something bizarre had happened here, and he would attempt to understand it at a later date. But for now? The deed was done. The rebels would escape as planned and one of the last known Jedi was dead.

Tarkin absentmindedly watched as the decrepit YT-1300 pulled out of the hangar. He sent word to Star Fighter control to only send four fighters after them and to remind the pilots that they were _not_ to destroy the freighter under any circumstance.

He pulled up the master list of known Jedi. He scrolled to Obi-Wan's entry and marked him as deceased, entering Lord Vader as his killer. The governor glanced through the entries remaining. After the Lothal Jedi had been dealt with, there were no more rumors of Jedi, no more whispered stories being followed by ISB or the Inquisitorius. Few entries remained on the list, and the odds of them surfacing lessened with each passing year; most had probably died in the previous two decades or were wise enough to remain in hiding for the rest of their lives.

No, it was over, Tarkin thought. The Jedi Order was at long last laid to rest. Not with a roar, but with the whimper of a foolish old man who decided not to fight.

Tarkin glanced one more time at the feed and saw that Vader still stood over the cloak of his old Master. For a moment Tarkin wondered what he thought, what went through his mind. Had killing his master been cathartic? Tarkin pushed these thoughts from his mind as irrelevant to the more important matters at hand.

Tarkin switched his feed to the external sensors as the flight of TIE Fighters engaged the freighter, and resolved never to think of the Jedi Order again.

In this, he succeeded.

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_** Originally I planned on doing three stories telling the death of Obi-Wan. Unfortunately for the life of me, I couldn't make one of them work, hence the longer delay than normal between chapters. The next chapter will also be about Kenobi's death and yes, you can probably guess the point of view...


	25. Disappointing: Darth Vader

_**Disappointing: Darth Vader  
**_ _ **BBY 0  
**_ _ **Obi-Wan Age: 58**_

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

This was the endless rhythm that marked the existence of Darth Vader. It was a ceaseless cadence in waking or in sleeping. Mechanical apparatuses kept air moving whether he willed it or no, his scarred lungs inflating and deflating each time with great pain.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

In most sentients it is the heartbeat that measures the passage of time, each beat a moment that is gone, never to return. It is why the flow of time varies from moment to moment, for the beat of a heart is never constant. Darth Vader's breathing never varied, marking time like an ancient mechanical chronograph. Each moment was marked with machine precision, precise and exact.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

Each breath was hoarse and inhuman, more like a monster than a man. The ominous rhythm filled the room; it's noise seemingly deafening even within the confines of Vader's own helmet. He hated the sound nearly as much as he hated himself. At his feet were the fallen remains of his old master, a tattered cloak, and a lightsaber. Obi-Wan was the one person he hated more than himself, and after nearly two decades of waiting, his chance at vengeance had finally come.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

Darth Vader had lied to himself for all those years. Obi-Wan had been the cause of all his suffering. This was the lie that had become his mantra. Obi-Wan had corrupted the Jedi Order. He had turned Padme against him. He had burned the body of Anakin. Obi-Wan had created Darth Vader. This was the lie that kept Darth Vader sane, for if he allowed himself to acknowledge the horrible truth, that he alone was responsible for his suffering, then Darth Vader would cease to exist, and Anakin would awaken.

But now Obi-Wan was dead, and the lie could be safely believed until death came to save Vader from the horrible mechanical breathing. The Sith pressed his heavy boot upon the desert cloak again. There was a mystery here that he could not unravel. Even a Jedi left a body, and the final confident smile of Obi-Wan haunted Vader's memory.

 _If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine._

This was an impossibility, for there was nothing beyond this life. This was the doctrine of the Sith and the nature of the Force; Obi-Wan had perished and was gone forever. As Vader tried to find pleasure in this truth, he was surprised as memories came unbidden to his mind.

Memories of a life ended long ago.

 _Anakin Skywalker meet Obi-Wan Kenobi._

 _Hi! Pleased to meet you!_

 _What will happen to me now?_

 _The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi. I promise._

 _Don't get me wrong, Obi-Wan is a great mentor, as wise as Master Yoda, and as powerful as Master Windu. I am truly thankful to be his apprentice._

 _I don't care put this ship down!_

 _You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!_

 _It's not that we're not allowed to have these feelings… It's… Natural._

 _Senator Amidala and I are simply friends._

 _And friends you must remain._

 _You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you._

 _I hate you!_

 _You were my brother Anakin. I loved you._

 _I hate you!_

 _I loved you._

 _I hate you!_

 _I loved you._

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

Darth Vader had wondered what he would feel when he finally killed his old master when these memories were at last laid to rest. Triumph over an old foe, vindication for past wrongs, or perhaps the raw thrill of dark side power that comes when a foe lay broken at your feet?

Vader felt none of these things. No euphoria or dark jubilation. Not even a dull spark of pleasure.

Only a cold emptiness, hollow and disappointing, much like his fight with his old apprentice. The chief moments in the life of Darth Vader had been riddled with disappointment and confusion.

For many years, Darth Vader had only felt fear in the presence of his Master, the Lord of the Sith. Such fear was wise, for Darth Sidious was powerful beyond the reckoning of Vader. But now Vader felt a new fear creeping through his damaged limbs. It was the fear that he was numb to the world. That, being a dead man, he would feel nothing ever again, nothing except fear and regret.

And the pain of breathing.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

Vader raised his hand and called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to his outstretched glove. The hilt was exactly as he remembered it. He would keep it as a trophy, as proof of his victory over the past, of his victory over Obi-Wan. Vader willed himself to hate his old master and found that he was unable. There was only a dull ache left.

Anakin Skywalker had died long ago.

And in that moment, Darth Vader realized that he too was dying, not in body, but in spirit. But even in death, the breathing would continue, and a lifeless shell would continue to serve the Emperor's will. Nihilistic despair gathered itself around the dark lord, threatening to suffocate him.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

But the breathing continued, and Vader roused himself, calling on the dark side to fill him with terrible hatred. He would not allow himself to lose himself or his dark purpose. And so he called on all the hatred he had for himself and for his master. Wall plates crumpled, lights shattered, and the ground shook around the Sith Lord in a brief display of power. One day he would rise up and kill Darth Sidious and take his rightful place as ruler of the galaxy. Then he would make things right.

As he had promised Padme he would so many years ago.

Gradually the shaking stopped. But such an outburst could not stop the breathing. Could not stop the disappointment that choked his soul. Disappointment in Obi-Wan. In himself. In the choices he had made. In what he was. Darth Vader resolved to never think of Obi-Wan or the Jedi Order again.

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

 _Breathe in._

 _Breathe out._

In this, he failed.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ I'll be honest, this isn't my favorite story in this bunch. I think there are some good ideas here, but I'm not thrilled with the execution. I liked the idea of Vader dying, of no longer feeling any passion for anything anymore, the very passion that is part of the Sith doctrine. We see no triumph when Obi-Wan dies, just a bit of confusion as he tamps his foot on his old master's robe.

I _am_ however more a fan of the next chapter. Be on the look out tomorrow. I think it's a good one!


	26. Crazy Old Man: Han Solo

_**Crazy Old Man: Han Solo  
**_ _ **0 BBY**_

Han crossed his arms across his vest and leaned against the landing strut of the Falcon. The roar of engines filled the landing field in front of the Great Temple on Yavin IV. Han turned his head as thirty Alliance starfighters drifted out of the hangar, pointed towards the upper atmosphere, and burned engines. The din of their sublights gradually faded and the noise of the jungle resumed it's usual clamor, only now Han thought it a bit quieter. Perhaps even the wildlife knew what was coming.

This rock was about to be dust. There was no avoiding it. Against his better judgment Han had sat in on the briefing. In spite of himself, he'd been thinking about joining in the fight, but _only_ if there was a real chance. Han didn't want the Empire rolling around blowing up planets any more than anyone else, but he wasn't about to throw his life away on an unarmed rancor hunt. Turned out destroying the thing would take a miracle and Han had decided it was time to beat an exit.

He wasn't crazy. That was the line he kept repeating to himself as he stared up into Yavin IV's sky. Not like everyone else around here. Lot of brave men and women were about to die for a lost cause, one that a younger Han might have believed in himself. He'd been there though, did the right thing, made the _right_ choice.

And then he'd lost almost everything. Could have pocketed sixty million; instead, he walked away with the clothes on his back, his new friend Chewie, and only enough credits for a stake in a game of Sabacc. Everything since then had come from Han watching out for himself and for Chewie. They didn't need anyone else or any causes getting in the way. No princesses, farm boys, or crazy old men.

Han grimaced as he thought about... Ben. Yeah, that was what the kid had called him. Or Obi-Wan, or something; Han hadn't really gotten the details. Didn't matter. He was dead now, but at least his friends had come through and paid the seventeen on delivery, and then some for the heroics aboard the Death Star. Han had considered that a little bit of a miracle, as he wasn't entirely confident these Rebels had had that many credits between them. Turned out this group was the real deal; had funding, people, _and_ equipment. Too bad their enemy could blow up planets.

Chewie walked up to the Falcon with the cart of supplies. The Rebels had been generous and let them take whatever they needed. Made sense as their whole base was all about to be a debris field. "Alright, let's get out of here, Chewie. No need sticking around for the fireworks." Chewie nodded and pushed the cart up the ramp of the Falcon.

Han took one last look at the sky and the departed fighters, a strange feeling tugging at his heart. He didn't like it. "Don't get involved," he reminded himself and stepped up the ramp, hitting the panel to close up the ship. Gases hissed as the Falcon pressurized.

In the cockpit, Chewie was already going through the pre-flight checklist. Han joined in, the motions automatic and comforting; he and Chewie had done this a thousand times. The Falcon was home. Family. Like Chewie.

Han thought about the others and smiled to himself when he remembered the princess. He would have loved a chance to try and get her to see things his way. Would have been a real challenge. And the kid? Luke was someone that could have been a real help. Truth was, he reminded Han a little bit of himself when he'd left Corellia. Bright-eyed. Eager. Ready to do the _right thing_. With a little bit of toughening, Luke would have made a great part of he and Chewie's little team. Pity he'd be dead in the next few minutes.

Then there was the old man. If Han was being honest, the guy had gotten under his skin. From the start, he'd been unimpressed with Han's boasting about the Falcon. Han didn't mind if you insulted him. But if you didn't pay the proper respects to the Falcon? More than one bar fight had been started that way.

And then there was the mystical mumbo-jumbo and his crazy confidence. Han wasn't sure if Obi-Wan had so much as flinched at the Death Star or anything that happened afterward. And then there at the end? Fighting with his laser sword against… What was that? Some kind of stormtrooper officer in all black with a red laser sword? It had made chills crawl up the back of Han's legs. Seemed almost as if he'd been fighting just long enough to make sure they'd made it back to the Falcon. And then he just, gave up?

None of it made any sense.

"We sure fell in with the crazies this time didn't we?"

Chewie grumbled something in dissent.

"Look, I liked them too, but come on; look what's going on here. Nothing that you and I need to be a part of. _We_ aren't going to die today."

The Wookiee finished the preflight sequence and fired up the repulsors. They whined as the Falcon lifted slowly off the ground. He turned to Han and reminded him how someone _had_ already died today and that that was the only reason they were still alive.

"What, you talking about the old man? He was crazy, and you know it. He was claiming to be a Jedi. The Jedi have been dead for years."

Chewie agreed that the man was crazy, then made a rude joke about how short-lived humans were. Han ignored it, but was taken back when his co-pilot declared his belief that Obi-Wan had been a Jedi."

"Oh come on Chewie, you can't possibly have believed that garbage heap, cause if you do I got a pet dianoga to sell you." That joke was probably in poor taste considering their little mishap in the trash compactor, but Luke wasn't around to hear it, so Han didn't care.

He fired up the sublights and sent them burning towards space. His partner growled a fierce rebuttal. Apparently, the Wookiee had known several Jedi back in the Clone Wars. He rattled off a few names that Han had never heard of, and seemed irritated that Han wasn't impressed by them.

"Look, pal, I was a kid when all these people died, sorry I've never heard of em. What's that got to do with the old man?"

Han's eyes narrowed as Chewie claimed to have heard of Obi-Wan Kenobi back in the war. Seems he was a bit of a legend and just about everyone in the Republic had heard of him back in those days.

"That old man? There's no way he…"

Chewie interrupted with a harsh bark.

"Fine, fine, let's say that _was_ him. What's your point?" Han had a feeling he knew where this was going and he didn't like it.

Chewie cut right to the point. A living legend had trusted them and given his life for them so that they could escape. And Han was too busy worrying about the skin on his own back to even bother to care about what was going on.

"Hey, pal. Come on; I don't mean that…" Fear suddenly gripped Han. Truth was, Chewie was a lot better person than he was and some days he wondered why the Wookiee even stuck around. They'de done a lot of things that he knew Chewie hadn't approved of. It wasn't that Han liked those jobs either, but they had debts, and debts had to be paid. Han knew that for all his bluster, Chewie _was_ a bit of a softy and hated the lifestyle they lived.

Someday he was gonna get fed up with Han and leave. Go back to searching for his family.

And Han would deserve it.

They broke out of the upper atmosphere and Han punched the throttle to get away from Yavin IV. Chewie let it drop for now, and Han was grateful. He knew it would come up again, maybe even be a real argument this time. They cleared far enough away from the moon to see the ominous Death Star beginning to rise from Yavin like some sort of nightmarish dawn.

The last dawn a lot of good people would ever see. Han wiped sweat away from his forehead as he turned to the navicomputer and told it to give him the first coordinates it could spit out. He didn't care where they went. Anywhere but here was fine with Han.

 _"..._ idn't _go in. Just impacted on the surface."_

Han shot a look at Chewie. The Wookiee had patched into the Rebel comm frequencies. Han didn't dare turn it off.

Suddenly Luke's voice crackled through the speaker. " _Red Leader we're right above you! Turn to point… 05. We'll cover for you._ "

 _"Stay there I just lost my starboard engine. Get set up for your attack run."_ There was a shriek of twisting metal and shattering electronics and the voice cried out before cutting off in static."

Han could feel Chewie looking at him. He could feel the beating of his own heart. It was so loud he wondered if Chewie could hear it too.

 _"Biggs Wedge, let's close it up. We're going in. We're going in full throttle."_ Han imagined Luke in the X-Wing with two wingmen, screaming down that trench at full burn. The kid was brave. And he needed help. The navicomputer chimed that the coordinates were ready. Han turned to it but then paused, something in him needing to hear the battle. Time stretched and each second seemed to be a tiny eternity, marked only by the beating of Han's own heart.

 _"Luke, at that speed will you be able to pull out in time?"_

 _"It'll be just like Beggar's Canyon_ _back home."_

Han looked over at Chewie. Chewie nodded, and Han knew that he was about to do the dumbest thing he had ever done. Dumbest thing he'd done in ten years at least, since when he'd given away sixty million in coaxium.

This would probably get him killed.

He grabbed the flight controls and wheeled the Falcon around to point it right at the Death Star. "Hit it, Chewie, before I talk myself out of this."

Chewie pushed the Falcon's engines way past their safe limit. As Han felt himself pushed back in his seat and the abominable planet killer grew larger and larger, he thought about the princess. If he ever wanted to get that second chance with her, they were going to need that miracle. He thought about the farm boy and hoped the bright-eyed kid would get his chance to see the Galaxy.

As they passed through the magnetic field, the Death Star filled their entire field of view. The comm chatter continued, but Han only half paid any attention to it. Luke was in trouble, losing wingmen fast. If Han didn't get there in time…

He closed his eyes for an instant to shut it all out and clear his mind. Instead, he thought about Obi-Wan.

Jedi? War Hero? Crazy Old Man?

Maybe he was all of those things. Either way, he'd given his life for Han.

It was a debt Han needed to repay. And Han always repaid his debts.

He saw the trench from above. Their high angle of approach gave them a good view of the lone X-Wing; Luke, trailed by three TIEs. "Get us in range Chewie!" The Wookiee roared something about the engines blowing out if he pressed them anymore. "I don't care, just get me one shot."

Luke's voice crackled over the speakers one last time. _"I've lost Artoo."_

Now the kid really was alone. Had they come too late? They could pull up, even now. With the speed they had, there wasn't a chance the towers would be able to track them. They could pull up and disappear.

But Han repaid his debts.

The TIE fighters came in range. Han lined up the guns and squeezed off a single shot, instantly vaporizing one of the TIES. "Yeeehooo!" Han shouted into his comm, broadcasting on all frequencies. Let them all know he'd come, Rebels _and_ Empire. Han Solo wasn't leaving yet.

The confusion of the sudden assault broke the formation of the other two TIEs. One veered to the side, colliding with the flight leader, and destroyed itself. Han lost track of the flight leader. It wasn't a threat anymore, and the job wasn't done.

He shouted into the mic "You're all clear kid, now let's blow this thing and go home!"

* * *

 _ **End of Act V: The Final Journey**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ Oh I'm so glad I was able to work this story out and finish up my little trilogy of stories on the death of Obi-Wan. I've always loved the idea that Obi-Wan kind of got under Han's skin and not just in the nuisance sort of way. Maybe that Obi-Wan's calm facade really did rattle Han's cage and got him to thinking. And with a co-pilot that knew Jedi back in the Clone Wars (weird decision Lucas, but I'll run with it…), maybe Han DID start to think there was more to the old man than meets the eye…

A few more stories to go. One last short act on the legacy of Obi-Wan Kenobi and this thing will be done!


	27. Wrong: Luke Skywalker

_**Final Act: The Legacy of Obi-wan Kenobi**_

* * *

 _ **Wrong: Luke Skywalker**_

 _ **4 ABY: Mid Return of the Jedi**_

" _There's still good in him."_

" _He's more machine now than man, twisted and evil."_

" _I can't do it, Ben."_

" _You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again."_

" _I can't kill my own father."_

" _Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope."_

* * *

Luke fired the engines and pushed his X-Wing out of the misty swamps of Dagobah. He glanced down at the planet as he exited the atmosphere wondering if he would ever return to the mysterious world. Its primal life was strong in the force, its power ancient and untested. Perhaps this is what had drawn Yoda to this place so many years ago.

He tried to organize his thoughts, but there were simply too many. Leia, Yoda, the Force, the fate of the galaxy.

But most of all, Vader.

And Ben.

Ben was wrong about Vader, of this Luke was certain. There _was_ still good in him. Luke had felt it on Bespin, the tendrils of doubt that gnawed at Vader's mind as Luke had rejected him and fallen down the shaft. Somewhere, deep within Vader was a shred of Anakin, Obi-Wan's friend and apprentice, whom he had lost all faith in.

Luke felt a stab of pity for Ben, unable to imagine the betrayal he had felt when his apprentice betrayed him, unable to imagine the loneliness of all those years in the desert watching over his charge. Who could blame Ben for thinking that Anakin was beyond all hope of the light?

It was logical. It seemed obvious.

But it was wrong.

Luke didn't know if his father would be saved, but he knew it was possible. This was a truth he would hold fast to. And when he faced his father again, as it seemed was his destiny, it was a truth that would likely get him killed.

It also might save them all.

Luke activated his hyperdrive and watched as the star's melted into mottled blue chaos.

* * *

"I believe you're looking for me." Luke called out to the patrol of scout troopers. "I'm going to surrender and come out with my hands raised."

The troopers jumped, clearly not expecting the voice in the darkness. Their leader regained his wits quickly. "Come out Rebel. Make one wrong move and you're dead."

Luke dropped from the branch he'd been perched upon and landed some ten meters in front of the patrol squad hands raised. Instantly eight rifle-mounted flashlights flicked to his face. Luke closed his eyes and stood as still as a statue. He managed not to flinch as gloved hands took his lightsaber from his belt and patted him down for other weapons.

"Uh sir…?" Luke opened his eyes as a trooper handed his lightsaber to the patrol leader. "Is this… Is this what I think it is."

The patrol leader took the lightsaber and ignited it. "It's him. Boys, we're all getting promotions." He extinguished the blade. "Call for transport. And watch him like a hawkbat; this smells like a trap."

They questioned Luke, there in the darkness on Endor. He answered a few meaningless questions and ignored any incriminating ones, but his attention remained focused on Vader. He could feel the dark lord's presence, like a festering wound, on this living moon. He probed the dark intellect with his own mind, no longer caring if he was noticed. The die was cast and he would face Vader again, just as Ben had wanted.

But Ben was wrong, and Luke would face Vader on his own terms. He would go to him of his own accord, unarmed, and make his appeal to Anakin. It would be a last desperate plea to his father.

And if he failed he would die.

* * *

They were silent on the ride to the Death Star. Luke had failed and he went now to his death. The nearer they came to the battle station, the colder he felt, as if the fortresses emanated great waves of darkness. There was a mind at the center of that great web, and it's malignant will even now hearkened towards Luke. Vader's presence was but a candle to the dark majesty of the one they approached.

He glanced at Vader, who sat unmoving across from him in the passenger compartment. The slow, mechanical breathing was no longer ominous, but tragic, like the breathing of a dying man. It was the life support that kept Anakin alive, buried under the weight of his many crimes.

Luke had felt Vader's doubt and had pleaded his case to his father. Vader's response had been pitiful and morose.

 _It is too late for me, Son._

Like a man who knew he was already dead, a corpse in a shell of machine.

No, it isn't, father. Ben is wrong, and even now you can cast aside this darkness. Luke directed these thoughts at his father, hoping that Anakin would hear them. Vader shifted his head to stare directly at Luke for a moment, then resumed his silent vigil. He made no sound other than the raspy breathing.

There was a muffled metallic sound as the shuttle sat down in a hangar. The die was indeed cast. Either Obi-Wan was right, or Luke was right, and they all hurtled towards their destiny. The ties that bound them all together would be tested one last time, and the fate of a galaxy hinged upon the coming storm.

* * *

Luke stared at his mechanical hand, knowing how close he had tread to the edge of destruction. In trying to save Anakin, he had nearly destroyed him, had nearly become him. And for this, he would either die or lose his soul.

"Never." He threw his lightsaber aside. "I'll _never_ turn to the dark side.

Luke stepped towards the Emperor "You've failed your highness. I am a Jedi. Like my father before me."

The Lord of the Sith's proclamation was final, and it was the death sentence that Luke had long expected. "So be it, Jedi. If you will not be turned, you will be _**destroyed!"**_

Impossible dark lightning came from the outstretched hands of the tyrant, lightning born of both reality and the Force itself being twisted horribly against their natural wills. The energy cut through Luke's body like a plasma knife, and he was nearly cast down the nearby shaft with initial impact. It took the last of his willpower to grab hold and save his life.

The Emperor paused his assault to gloat. "Young fool. Only now, at the end, do you understand," The attack continued and the dark energy poured into Luke with renewed intensity. "Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision."

Luke was dying, losing consciousness as his world became nothing but the lightning and pain. In his agony, he cried out for his father, for the only one that _could_ help him, though he held no hope in that thought anymore. Obi-Wan had been right all along, and the galaxy would perish in darkness as the Lord of the Sith reigned until there was nothing left to rule but the cinders of dead civilizations.

"Father, please! Help me!"

The lightning stopped one last time and the Emperor gloated, "And now young Skywalker, you will die."

This was the end; the end of the Jedi, the end of hope, and the end of Luke Skywalker. His world came apart as the final assault began.

But Obi-Wan was wrong, and Anakin awoke from his great slumber. Taking hold of the Emperor, his mechanical body was riddled with electricity, servos seizing up and circuits melting. He cast the despot down the shaft. Darth Vader and Darth Sidious died together, and the line of the Sith ended in sudden ruin, undone by its own machinations.

Anakin fell to the metal floor, his broken mechanical exoskeleton irreversibly damaged. Luke limped to his father's side, tears coming unbidden to his eyes. Anakin's breathing was haggard, the mechanisms that kept him alive failing. He would die at last.

Neither spoke as Luke half dragged his father to his feet. He would take him as far from this dour place as he was able; perhaps they could make it away from this station before it was destroyed.

For it _would_ be destroyed now. A single thread had been pulled, Darth Sidious, the Great Betrayer, who had held fate and destiny in his hand, and the tapestry was coming undone. There would be a great deal of change to come, and the Empire would come crashing down around them.

It would start here at Endor. Here on this Death Star. Anakin had struck the first blow, the most important one. He had killed the last of the Sith Lords, Darth Vader and Darth Sidious, and in so doing the Galaxy would finally be free.

Obi-Wan had indeed been wrong, but oh how he wept for the joy of how wrong he was.


	28. Foundation: Leia Organa

_**Author's Note:**_ Big Solo spoilers ahead. You've been warned. If you didn't see it, it's good. But I'm about to spoil it. You've been warned.

* * *

 _ **Foundation: Leia  
**_ _ **5 ABY: Almost one Year after Endor**_

Leia leaned on the balcony railing of their apartment. The sun was setting over Hanna City, filling the sky with dazzling purple and orange. And it was peaceful, for once, something Leia wasn't sure yet if she even enjoyed. The Empire still existed, and Chandrila had had its own share of troubles with the terrorist attack, but all that promised to be over soon with the coming storm on Jakku. It might all come to an end.

And then there really would be peace, peace the likes of which two generations had never known. It was coming, and soon, if things went as expected.

The door behind her slid open. "You sure it's safe for you to be out here?"

Leia rolled her eyes. "The security field is on. I'm as safe as I'll ever be." Her hand instinctively went to her stomach and their unborn child. He moved a little, responding sympathetically to the mood of his mother. "As safe as I've ever been," she added softly and turned to smile at Han.

Han smiled that dopey smile. "What? See something you like?"

"Yes. Your face without that terrible beard."

Han pointed at his chest and gave his best "who me" face.

Leia answered as if he'd vocalized the thought. "Yes, you. I didn't even recognize you when you came back with that awful thing."

"Hey, I had to do something to blend in with the Wookiees on Kashyyyk." Leia rolled her eyes again but slipped her arm around Han as he joined her on the balcony. "How's our little man?"

Leia felt her stomach again unconsciously, dimly aware of him through her weak connection to the Force. "He feels what I feel. That peace is coming."

Han looked down at her with an eyebrow raised. "That's uhh… a little dramatic for a not-quite-born baby don't you think?"

Leia dug an elbow into Han's side. "Alright, laugh it up. Maybe the hormones are getting to me. Maybe I'm getting a little sentimental."

They were silent for a couple of minutes. The sun dipped beneath the horizon, and the purples in the sky deepened as the oranges were extinguished. Hanna City really was quiet tonight. "There's nothing wrong with a little sentiment right now," Han said softly. "Soon the war will be over, and no one's gonna know what to do with themselves."

"Life will go, on I guess," Leia said with a shrug. "And we'll be parents. Can you imagine that, Han Solo?"

He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. "Not a bit. I always figured that, if we had kids, Chewie'd be around to babysit." The old Wookiee had stayed on Kashyyyk with his family to help rebuild; they'de see him again someday, but Leia knew the parting had been bitterly hard for Han.

"Captain, you'll do just fine," Leia laughed. She always called him that when his confidence dropped beneath his usual bluster. "Did you try and think of a name yet?"

Han shuffled again. "Maybe a little."

Leia didn't need a strong connection to the Force to feel the nervousness practically dripping from her husband. "What's gotten into you? Have you thought of a name or not?"

"I've got… Maybe one idea, but I don't really think you're going to like it, Princess."

"Don't call me that. What is it? It can't be that bad, can it?" She smiled at Han's evasiveness. He was right that she probably wouldn't like it, but at least he _had_ thought about it.

Han scratched the back of his head nervously "I was thinking… maybe we could name him… Beckett."

"Beckett," Leia said, puzzling over the name. It wasn't one she'd ever heard before. "Where did you hear that name?"

"I used to know a guy way back. Tobias Beckett. He was kind of a mentor to me and well… I don't know Leia. Where else am I supposed to get a name from?"

Leia had never heard about this mentor before. Knowing the life Han had lived before the rebellion, he was probably long dead. "So what happened to this mentor? Why haven't you ever told me about him before."

Han paused awkwardly before answering. "I uh… I had to shoot him."

Leia stepped away from Han to stare at him. " _What?!_ "

"Look he was gonna kill me." Han looked away, clearly regretting this conversation. "Maybe Chewie too. I… I did what I had to. Doesn't mean I didn't hate doing it. I'd have been dead long before I met you if it wasn't for his advice."

Leia eyed him for a long moment before nestling against his side again. "I'm getting the whole story later. And no, we're not going to name our son after someone that you had to shoot."

There was a long sigh, and Han grumbled, "Yeah I know, I know." Leiah covered her mouth to keep from laughing. "Fine then. Beckett's a no go. What about you? What name have you thought up."

Leia smiled. "You're not gonna like mine either."

"Someone you shot?"

Leia's mouth dropped open. "What? No! Han…"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding! Don't get so worked up over a joke. So what's the name?"

Leia was quiet for a moment before answering. "I want to name him Ben."

Han stepped away to look at her. "Ben, as in Obi-Wan Ben? Crazy old man Ben that we never really knew?"

"Yes, that, Ben," Leia said, scowling at her husband.

"But… But why?" Han asked, a bewildered look on his face. "You never even met him."

"Because he was the foundation of our family," Leia stated firmly. "Without him…" she shook her head. "Nothing. You know all the history Luke's managed to dig up about him. A legend from a different time. And basically a father to our... well, to Anakin." Leia stiffened as she said this. Luke had said that Vader had tried to redeem himself in the end, but nothing he said would make her forgive what he had done to her or Alderaan. "You know what Obi-Wan did, in protecting Luke and me, how none of us would have met without him."

Han surprised Leia by adding the next bit of reasoning himself "And without him, the Death Star never gets destroyed and, well, none of the rest of this," he said gesturing at the city around them.

Leia nodded. "We owe Obi-Wan everything. The galaxy owes him. He suffered alone in the desert for nearly twenty years after having lost everything he loved. And then he died for what he believed in." She looked up at Han and smiled softly. "And it made all the difference, to our family," she gestured at the now visible stars, "and trillions of others."

They were quiet for a minute, and Leia nestled herself against Han's side again. Finally, he spoke. "Ben, huh. You know I said some pretty… rough things about him that day. Called him an old fossil and blamed it on Chewie."

"Is that all?" Leia said. "Sounds pretty tame…"

"I'm not gonna say what else I said with the kid present. Don't want him learning those words yet..."

Leia sighed and laughed. That sounded like the old Han alright.

Han continued. "But, hey. I've learned a lot since then, and you know what? Ben is a good name. We can name him Ben." Leia smiled, pleased that Han had so readily come to agree. Han turned to face Leia and placed both hands on her stomach. "You hear that, Ben? You've got big shoes to fill. But I know you'll be able to do it. And we'll be so proud of you, and be with you the whole way."

Leia laughed as Han embraced her, careful of her bulging midsection. Soon the war would be over, there would be peace, and they would be parents.

Leia couldn't imagine life with any one but Han.

He was a good man, Han Solo, in spite of what he wanted everyone else to think.


	29. Legendary: Ahsoka Tano

_**Author's Note:**_ Major spoiler warnings for pretty much everything, Rebels, Clone Wars, all of it. I even manage to slightly foreshadow some themes from the Sequel Trilogy. Even the title is spoilery. If it's Star Wars, I'm spoiling it.

Also, I've been looking forward to this chapter for a _very_ long time...

* * *

 _ **Legendary: Ahsoka Tano  
**_ _ **8 ABY**_

A chill wind blew across the plain, leaving ripples in the grasslands, like waves in an ocean. Small pockets of ice and snow stubbornly clung to the shadows; spring came late if at all to these latitudes of Lothal, and in only a few short months, storms of ice and wind would race across the region. Today, the sky was grey with heavy clouds that allowed occasional rays of warm sunlight through.

Ahsoka sat in a meditation pose on a smooth expanse of flat stone, free from both the grass and snow. Her convoree friend, Morai, sat on her shoulder, quiet and content with the peaceful moment. Ahsoka stretched her senses outward towards the life of Lothal, touching it, feeling its renewed health. Like many planets, Lothal had suffered under the Empire, its people and ecology nearly destroyed. Unlike many, Lothal was recovering, though it would still be a few decades before the ecology fully stabilized. The inhabitants of the planet were doing everything in their power to restore the grasslands to their former beauty. All the work had turned Lothal into the shining jewel of the Outer Rim.

Beneath her, Ahsoka felt strange energies swirling, like eddies of foam in a river. Remnants of the temple that had once sat on this site, perhaps. She opened her eyes to glance at the softly downed bird that sat upon her shoulder. "You wouldn't know anything about this place, would you?" The convoree did not answer the question but regarded Ahsoka with its ancient eyes. "I thought so. You are not so good at keeping secrets as you once were. The day will come when your secrets will be laid bare to me, Morai. Perhaps, then we will speak and truly know each other."

The sound of an approaching ship caught her attention, and she turned to watch an X-Wing class fighter, land beside her own shuttle. Taking her staff in hand, she raised herself to her feet, straightening her white robes. The wind picked up again, and she pulled the hood over her montrals. A young man, still in his late twenties climbed out of the fighter, followed by a very old friend. The droid bumped into the youth on his way to greet Ahsoka.

She laughed and knelt by the droid. "Artoo, it's… It's good to see you too old friend. Yes, I've heard how you've been watching after Anakin's children. I couldn't have asked for anything more, and they couldn't have asked for a more loyal droid." She placed a hand on the familiar dome, and the droid beeped appreciatively.

A single tear trickled down Ahsoka's cheek. "Anakin would have been proud of you, Artoo. What? Oh, just keep doing what you're doing. I think Luke will have need of you. Yes, I agree. Skywalkers tend to get themselves into trouble." She stood and leaned on her staff. "It's good to see you again, Luke." She favored him with a graceful smile and noted that his blond hair was beginning to darken with age.

Luke nodded respectfully. "And you, Ahsoka. I'm glad your search of the Unknown Regions wasn't in vain. Though I'm a little disappointed that neither you nor Bridger are interested in my offer."

"You've spoken with him then?"

"Yes, yesterday and again this morning. He's offered his help and knowledge, though when the time comes, he doesn't want to be part of a formal Jedi Order, even with the promise that this new Order will have learned from the mistakes of the last. I don't suppose I can blame him; the Force has taken him on a different path."

"His family is very important to him," Ahsoka said thoughtfully.

"And I would never dream of separating him from them, especially after how long they were apart." Luke smiled tightly. "I don't suppose that you would reconsider. A new Jedi Order would blossom under your wisdom. We both know that, between us, you have the greater knowledge of the Force." He held up his hand. "Yes, I know what happened before. I'd rather something like that never happen again, and I think your guidance could prevent that."

Ahsoka gripped her staff with both hands and rested more of her weight upon it. "Much like Bridger, the Force has taken me on a different path, though I too will provide any council and wisdom you need."

"I won't pretend I'm not disappointed," Luke admitted, looking around the open plain, "but I understand. Now if you don't mind me asking, is there some reason you wanted to meet at this location? I feel I'm missing some piece of the puzzle."

Ahsoka swept her arms wide in a gesture towards the lands around them. "Cast out your senses, Luke, into the plains around us, into the very stones. On this spot there once stood a Temple that guarded an ancient secret; it was connected through the Force to all times and places. It was a... gateway of sorts, and its past is shrouded in mystery."

Luke closed his eyes, and Ahsoka felt a brief touch as he cast his awareness wide. After several minutes he opened his eyes. "The temple is both long absent and still present. How is this possible?"

Ahsoka looked at her stone beneath her feet. It had divulged no mysteries to her this day, or on any other that she had meditated here since their return to civilized space. "I don't know. There are other such places around the galaxy, and it is my task to find them, to understand them. The Force has many mysteries, Luke, not all of which are for the Jedi to concern themselves with." She winked playfully at him. "Some of its mysteries are for us outsiders. Fear not, I will share anything important I find with you."

"I would appreciate that. I'm only now beginning to understand how little I know of the nature of the Force." He raised a single eyebrow. "But why bring _me_ here _today_?"

Ahsoka smiled. "Must I have an ulterior motive?" Luke's expression didn't change. "Oh, very well. I have been to Mustafar. As you likely know, Vader had a fortress there, in the place that he fought Obi-Wan."

"Yes, I've heard of it. I have wanted to investigate the site, but thought it unwise to visit a place so strong in the dark side alone."

"Then you were wise. As for myself," Ahsoka glanced at Morai on her shoulder, "I am rarely alone, and need not fear the dark side."

"And what did you find in my father's fortress?" Nervous energy radiated from the young man. These were matters that lay near his heart.

"Less than I had hoped," Ahsoka admitted. "I was afraid that it had already been looted or destroyed, but it appeared to have simply been abandoned. There were a few traps, some defense droids that needed dismantling, but there was little threat to myself or Morai. I did find a few… trophies that Vader kept. One, in particular, you may be interested in."

"Oh, what's that?" Luke asked, his youthful curiosity bubbling to the surface.

Ahsoka pulled the item in question out from her robe and handed it to Luke. "Obi-Wan's lightsaber. It seems that Vader kept it on his person and that it wasn't destroyed on the Death Star as I had thought."

Taking the hilt, Luke inspected it curiously. "I'll admit that I don't recognize it, I only saw him wield it once, in his duel with my father. But…" He closed his eyes. "It feels like him. It feels…" He trailed off, perhaps unsure of what word fit best.

"Wholesome?" Ahsoka suggested. "Obi-Wan was many things, and the kyber crystal in this saber is attuned to him even in death; it is still radiant with his presence."

Luke looked at the lightsaber again. "Why give this to me? You knew Ben far better than I did."

Ahsoka turned away from Luke and looked out over the plains, peering into the depths of her memories, to the days before sorrow had come upon them all. "We were family, Anakin, Obi-wan, and I. And I miss them both dearly. But my memories of Obi-Wan are treasure enough. No, I want you to keep this as a reminder of the past, of the things that came before." She turned back to Luke. "There are some who say that we should let the past perish. That its time has come, and once it is gone, it is best that it lies in its grave."

"But this is the height of foolishness. For the past is not gone. Through the Force, we forge bonds that link us to others. Those bonds heed neither the limits of time or space." She gestured to the ground. "Much like the temple that once stood on this spot. Obi-Wan died many years ago, and yet still his bonds tie him to the people of the galaxy, and especially to you and your family. He was one of the chief characters of this age of history, and it will bear his influence until the end of time. What he did, what he accomplished, cannot be undone. He left his mark on everyone he knew, and we were all the better for it."

Ahsoka paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I have meditated long on Obi-Wan, seeking to understand how one man could have so great an effect on the galaxy. I have no answer, save this: he was a good man who stood against the darkness. And this was enough, for his actions saved us all."

For a time there was only the gentle whisper of winds through the grass. The clouds darkened and the patches of sunlight disappeared. It was Luke who broke the silence first. "And yet, in the end, even he lost faith in Anakin."

"Indeed," Ahsoka agreed, her voice soft. "In the end, he proved only to be a man, flawed and imperfect. I think, though, that by now the Master and Apprentice have forgiven each other."

"I saw them both once, on Endor, with Yoda," Luke spoke barely above a whisper, as one does when revealing a great secret.

"And I have spoken once to Anakin, but such matters are private, and I will keep them near my heart."

The clouds broke again, driven by the biting winds, and the sun returned, bringing with it a hint of warmth and the coming spring. Luke clipped Obi-Wan's lightsaber to his belt. "I will keep this, and honor the memory of Obi-Wan."

"And," Ahsoka added smiling, "when you establish your new Jedi Order, I will come and tell the Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi to the initiates, for he could stand amongst the greatest heroes of the Order and feel no shame in their presence." She laughed, "Listen to us trading high speech as if we were masters; I fear we both have much to learn before we earn such titles, or the right to speak thus."

Luke laughed, and for a moment Ahsoka could see the farm boy that Obi-Wan had guarded over for so many years. She could also see some of Anakin, the kind and noble knight who would wade into ten thousand battle droids for the sake of a friend. Ahsoka peered at Luke closely for a moment, wondering if he carried the darker tendencies of his father, the impulsive and reckless nature. Perhaps he did, though she could not read those traits in him in this moment. "So what will you do now, Luke if you are still some ways out from founding your Order?"

He dropped his hands behind his back to a relaxed pose. "More research for now. The Empire couldn't erase the Jedi entirely in just a few short decades. There are ruins, documents, possibly even other survivors out there. I've heard a few rumors of an underworld vigilante on Nar Shaddaa that does miraculous things. If there are any more Jedi," he gestured at Ahsoka, "or ex-Jedi out there, I intend to find them. And yourself? More exploration?"

Ahsoka nodded. "There are more places like this in the Galaxy, and it has been given to me to find them. If you have need of me, leave a message with Bridger. He'll know how to find me."

"And if you need me... " Luke began before being cut off by Ahsoka.

"I'll talk to Leia."

He laughed. "That will work. And now I'm needed elsewhere. Farewell Ahsoka." He bowed to her respectfully, and she returned the gesture. "You ready, Artoo?"

The little old droid whistled sadly. "We shall see each other again," Ahsoka said to him with a wink. "Keep up the good work. Your part has been bigger than mine; my tasks have always been at the edges of history and the great deeds." She patted his dome. "You've always been right in the thick of things." Artoo beeped happily and rolled back towards the X-Wing. Luke gave her a friendly salute and, as he walked to the ship, lifted Artoo into his socket with the Force.

Ahsoka leaned on her staff and watched as the X-Wing flew away. She considered meditating a bit longer but knew that the site's mysteries would not reveal themselves to her. The academic mood had passed; she was wrapped up in too many memories of Anakin and Obi-Wan. She was pleased that Luke had taken Obi-Wan's saber. Maybe it would remind him to slow down and consider the past. The few times they had spoken, he had always been looking to the future. This wasn't bad in and of itself, but, to a Jedi, hindsight was as valuable as foresight.

She sighed and walked slowly back towards her shuttle. She spoke softly, to herself and perhaps to others if they were listening. "Oh, Obi-wan, Anakin… For long I thought that I had been left alone when in truth you both endured; one under the burden of your responsibilities and the other under the burden of your crimes. But now it seems the two of you have done your great deeds and lived your lives to their completion. You have passed into legend, and at long last, I am alone, a relic of another age. " She smiled as she reached the hatch of her ship. For a moment she thought she heard a soft sound behind her, a change in the tone of the wind as it moved through the grass.

She turned hoping to see a faint blue light flickering against the grey skies. Perhaps they had heard her after all. But there was nothing. Then the wind moved through the grass again, from a new direction, and this time and she heard it.

The sound of distant laughter, voices that she knew. "Very well, don't show yourselves." She laughed along with the voices as they became suddenly clearer. The wind picked up again, stronger this time and Ahsoka had to hold her hand to her head to keep her hood in place. For the briefest of moments, she saw them.

They were as she remembered them in the old days. Anakin, young and tall, the gallant knight, and Obi-Wan, full of unending wit, a voice of wisdom. The vision lasted for an instant and then they were gone, returned to wherever they existed within the Force. The wind died, and all was still.

"Into legends, you return," she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. "I will ensure that your stories are not forgotten, and go back to my own. Obi-Wan, Anakin… May the Force be with you."

There was the softest breath of air on her face, faint and gone the moment it was felt.

This was reply enough for Ahsoka. And though she knew that this was the last she would see of dear friends before her own time came to pass into the Force, it was enough. After all, her own legend was not yet complete. Ahsoka knew that it would be contained in the margins of the great histories of this time, and never the central chapters. Still, it was the part that destiny had written for her.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 _ **End of Final Act: The Legacy of Obi-Wan Kenobi**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ First, this isn't over. Epilogue chapter coming soon. Yeah. I've got more.

Now about this chapter, I did my best to connect it to as much of Star Wars as I could. I used it as a conclusion to the story of Obi-Wan (and Anakin), a conclusion to Luke's original trilogy story. A capstone on this particular stage of Ahsoka's life, as well some Rebels, (hope to see Ahsoka and Sabine's journey someday...). I even tried to look forward to the sequel trilogy, with Ahsoka noting the same things about Luke that Yoda does. That he looks forward to too much and does not look backward.

Also his impulsive nature. I'm not going to get into TLJ right now; I know a lot of fans have... let's say _mixed_ feelings about it. However, I do think that the criticism of Luke is mostly unfounded. Luke in a dark side fueled impulsive moment nearly killed his father. Some decades into the future he repeats the same mistake. In a single moment, he ignited his lightsaber and was left with "Shame and consequence." So I tried to slightly foreshadow that momentary regression.

And then there was the ending, Ahsoka's last vision of her friends. I aimed for it to be happy, but in the end, I fear that it was bittersweet at best. Perhaps I've let Tolkien influence me a bit too much. Victory in this world often comes at so terrible a cost...

Come back for the epilogue. I hope you won't be disappointed.


	30. Epilogue: Master and Apprentice

_**Author's Note:**_ You may have noticed I changed the title slightly. I'd never quite liked it just being Kenobi: From Several Points of View. Now here at the end, and after having actually written the whole thing, I changed it to _The Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi: From Several Points of View._ I think it has a nice ring.

Now enjoy the epilogue and stick around for the author's note.

* * *

 _ **Epilogue: Master and Apprentice**_

As Anakin lay dying, he was glad when the mechanical breathing finally stopped, when years of unceasing rhythm were silenced at last. His son removed his helmet, and Anakin's eyes saw him for the first and last time. They filled with tears, and for once in many, many years, Anakin was happy. While he would leave this life having made no amends to the people he had hurt, Anakin could rest in peace in the knowledge that he was forgiven, at least by his own son.

Anakin smiled and felt the world dimming around him. His body no longer responded, and his mechanical limbs lay lifeless and cold. The last thing he saw was the face of his son, his beloved son that of all the people in the galaxy had believed that there was hope for his ruined soul. Anakin's eyes closed for the last time and he slid down against the metal ramp.

Anakin Skywalker died, but this was not his end.

For a moment it was like being cast into a rushing river, and Anakin thought that he would be lost in it and be no more. But then he found himself held in a firm embrace. He tried to struggle, tried to open his eyes, but his body was not his to command.

"Be at peace Anakin."

The voice was distant but oddly familiar. "I.. I don't understand. Where…" The words came from his throat raspy and barely a whisper. "Where am I?"

"There will be time to answer questions later. For now, simply rest. You have been dead for a very long time, and only now does life work it's way back into your spirit."

Anakin relaxed and focused on the sensations around him. It was warm and full of light, he could see this even through his closed eyes. It was also peaceful and silent, and yet he had the impression of music surrounding him as if the air itself could barely restrain itself from singing. He rested in the comforting embrace for some time, before feeling he had the strength to open his eyes.

He was in a courtyard of some sort. His eyes focused and he knew where he was. Long ago at the Jedi Temple, there had been a garden with a sacred tree. It had been a peaceful place, the sort of place where time seemed to stand still. When Darth Sidious had made the Jedi Temple his palace, he had desecrated the place in mockery. As Darth Vader, Anakin had avoided that place and many others for the pain of the memories they brought.

"How do you feel Anakin?" came the voice again from the one who held him.

"I still can't move and I... Who are you?" He saw the form, and yet for some reason he could not see the details, as if the other was just a body of living light.

"One you know well, and one who failed you long ago."

The form became clear in Anakin's mind, and he knew the person. "Obi-Wan." He tried to look away with shame, to pull himself from the embrace of the other, but his body still wouldn't obey even simple commands. "How are you… How are we…?"

"There are many mysteries within the Force, Anakin. For myself, I was trained to preserve my consciousness within the Cosmic Force. And as for you, I held you in my arms as you lay dying so that you could not be swept away. Even now I hold you, as I was appointed, until you are strong enough to exist on your own accord."

Anakin saw that Obi-Wan appeared as a young man, full of life and vigor. Looking at himself, he saw that he seemed to still wear the black suit of Vader. He closed his eyes in shame. "You never failed me Obi-Wan. How could you say something so ridiculous after all the things I've done. I'm the only one responsible for…" He couldn't even begin to name the evil he had done. So many lives destroyed for a single moment's weakness, and for this Anakin began to weep softly.

"Yes, Anakin, you alone are responsible for your failures, but that does not mean I am not responsible for mine." Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. "I knew about you and Padme, you know. Not consciously of course, not at first. I had to pretend, turn a blind eye, make sure that I never acknowledged it so that I would not have to act. In my heart of hearts, I was happy for you, especially after Satine died. But it seems that when you needed me, you could not bring yourself to trust me. For this I am responsible, and I am sorry. That I ever let you think that I would not be there for you and Padme… This is my great shame, and I have paid the cost dearly."

His grief over Padme and all the years of darkness came back to Anakin in a moment. "Padme wanted to go to you. She thought we could trust you, but in my foolish pride, I thought I knew better. If I had never gone back to the Senate building that day… Master Windu might have…" He choked up, unable to continue.

"Shh, be at peace," Obi-Wan said. "Let us speak no more of the matter for now. For my own part, I forgive you Anakin, if you can also forgive me for being a failure of a master."

"I deserve no forgiveness," Anakin snapped bitterly. He could accept the forgiveness of his son, for Luke did not know the extent of Anakin's deeds. Obi-Wan did.

But Obi-Wan merely laughed. "No one does. For if forgiveness was deserved, we would not call it such, but rather name it justice. Forgiveness is not earned, Anakin, but freely given; and this I give to you, for the love that was once between us. Let the shadows of the past never again darken the air between us."

To this Anakin did not reply, for what reply can there be to such mercy?

"Now come, Anakin. You have worn that visage for too long. Let us free you at last of Vader." Obi-Wan stood and somehow carried Anakin in his arms as if he were but a child. Anakin still could not move and hung limp in the arms of his master. The world around them was all light, and then suddenly it was all green and blue. "On Mustafar was the pyre of Anakin Skywalker. There you burned and became Vader. Let the clean waters of Naboo be the final death of Vader. Here we will wash away the stains that have burdened you these many years."

Anakin knew the place. It was the lake where he and Padme were married so long ago, or else some golden representation of it, for Anakin was not sure that they truly were in any one place. Obi-Wan walked from the beach and waded into the water. "I expect this may cause you some pain; the scars are deep.

Anakin merely nodded, the most he had yet moved. And then Obi-Wan dipped him into the waters of Naboo. At first, nothing seemed to happen, then his skin began to burn, much as it had burnt in the fires of Mustafar. He grit his teeth, then saw as great parts of his suit began to slough off and turn to dust. The darkness of Darth Vader washed away. In a minute it was gone, and Anakin was naked, his scarred and ruined body exposed to the waters.

But the burning waters were not done, and the ruined body of Darth Vader was also washed away. For a moment Anakin feared that there would be nothing left of him, that he would be no more. Perhaps there really was no more Anakin Skywalker, and he was only Vader all along. In terror, he clung to Obi-Wan, before he even realized that he had done so of his own accord. Looking at himself he realized that he appeared as a child, not unlike the boy that had left his mother on Tatooine long ago.

Obi-Wan carried him out of the water, stood Anakin upon the shore, and placed a clean robe over his head. "There now. All the evils of your previous life have passed away." Anakin looked up at his master and saw that he appeared as he had when they had first met, short hair, clever smirk, and padawan braid.

"How… Why do you look like that?"

Obi-Wan laughed. "Appearances, place, even time seem to matter little now within the Cosmic Force. I appear as I wish and in time, when your mind and will are ready to be separated from mine, you will learn much. But for now, simply know that you are under my protection."

Anakin felt curiosity returning to him, perhaps this childlike visage having an effect on him. "Are there others here?"

"Many, and you will commune with them in time. I for one know that Yoda will be glad to see you. But Anakin there is one more matter that I need to ask your forgiveness for."

"I thought we had already said there was nothing more to speak on that subject."

"Hmm yes... " Obi-Wan said scratching his beard. "Yes I did say that, but indulge me for a moment. Do you know that I sent your son to kill you Anakin? I believed that you were gone, lost to evil forever."

Anakin laughed, "I don't think I can blame you. Of course, I forgive you. It is a wonder that Luke did what he did."

Obi-Wan turned to look out across the lake. "Yes, indeed. I continue to marvel at the boy. In some ways he is foolish. He is brash and impulsive like you were, and I fear there is more evil to come from those tendencies." Anakin grimaced but knew that Obi-Wan was not directing a barb at him. "In other ways," Obi-Wan continued softly, "he is wise beyond his years."

"But," he said abruptly and turned back to Anakin. "He was _not_ the Chosen One, the one fated to the destroy the Sith. I thought that mantle had fallen to him; in that too I was wrong. It seems you could not escape your destiny, no matter how hard you tried."

Anakin sat and hugged his knees to his chest. "I suppose so." The sith were indeed ended, hopefully forever. Darth Sidious was the last and greatest of that kind. And though the dark side itself is not slain, it's most ancient cult had at last been vanquished. "But at such a cost," Anakin mused to himself.

"Perhaps there was no other way. We can never know about the might have beens. Such ponderings are meaningless. You stand here now because of the forgiveness of your son, having accomplished the deed for which you were born. Let us be content in that. Now Anakin, does your strength return to you?"

Anakin stood to his feet and saw that he appeared as a full grown man, dressed in the vestments of his knighthood. He turned to Obi-Wan, and at once it seemed that they were at the Jedi Temple again by the sacred tree. "Now you're just having fun at my expense."

Obi-Wan winked, now appearing as he had when once he sat on the Jedi Council. "Maybe."

Anakin looked around. "I'm not going to pretend that I know what happens next, or what it is you even do now, but before we go any further…" He stepped to Obi-Wan and wrapped him in a warm embrace. "Thank you, Master, for everything you did. For training me, for guarding my children, for even being willing to speak to me after everything that's happened. You were the best Master a Padawan could have asked for. I'm glad to have been your friend."

There was more he could say, for how could he ever repay the debt he owed Obi-Wan? Anakin knew that no words would suffice and so he wisely left his speech at that.

They separated, and Obi-Wan bowed his head. "And I am eternally humbled that you have been my friend, Anakin. And in spite of everything I am proud of you; your own Padawan and children turned out marvelously well."

Anakin laughed. "I guess they did, didn't they. I don't suppose they've ever met have they?"

"When Leia was young, she met Ahsoka a time or two but did not understand the significance of their meeting. And Luke has not yet had the pleasure of meeting your former Padawan, though that time will come quickly now. I think they will have much to learn from one another. But come now, Anakin, it is time we were away. I have kept this pale shadow of reality around us so that you would not be overwhelmed in the light of the Cosmic Force. You have been dead for long Anakin, and now that you have regained your strength, it is time your eyes be opened to your new reality."

For a moment Anakin was afraid and reluctant. "Will I still be myself, or will I be lost in the Force?"

"You will be more yourself than ever you have been. Come; it is time." He extended his hand to Anakin as the world began to melt around them.

"So here we are again, huh? Master and Apprentice, even after death."

Obi-Wan laughed, a golden sound that Anakin felt rather than heard. "Perhaps, for a time, but you always were a quick learner. Then, now and forevermore we will be equals. Take my hand Anakin."

Anakin reached out and took Obi-Wan's hand as the rest of the world and their very bodies dissolved away into an ocean of ceaseless light. What followed was unlike anything Anakin had ever experienced and would have never been able to describe in words. For how can one be part of the Force and yet remain themselves? How can one experience the limitlessness of such a reality and yet not be unmade? This was the great mystery that Anakin found was his living reality. Obi-Wan had existed thus for some time. Indeed, he had become more powerful than Vader could have ever imagined.

After a time, the two friends descended to a small moon where a band of rebels celebrated their unlikely victory with a tribe of Ewoks. With them came Yoda, who laughed that peculiar little laugh of his. "Missed you I have, Skywalker."

Anakin only smiled. Here too was Qui-Gon, and though he could not appear as the others, his calming presence permeated the forest air. Luke stepped out from the village, perhaps feeling the encroaching spirits. Obi-Wan and Yoda appeared to Luke first, as he had last seen them. They were a comforting sight to him, old friends long missed.

After a time, Anakin made himself known to his son; he did not appear as Vader, but as a young knight, Anakin as he should have been, rather than as he was. He smiled at his son, proud of him and thankful for the faith that he had in a ruined man. Leia joined Luke, and for a moment Anakin feared she would see him. Sadly Anakin suspected that Leia would never forgive him. But her connection to the Force was not yet strong enough for her to see the spectral visitors, and the brother and sister turned and rejoined the celebration. Yoda nodded and he and Qui-Gon returned to whence they had come.

For a time Anakin and Obi-Wan stood vigil in that dark forest, joyful in the moment, knowing that at long last there would be a bit of happiness in the galaxy. It would not endure forever they knew, as evil men will always hearken to the dark side, whose ancient power was not yet wholly broken. But for a time, there could be happiness again.

The cost had been dear, and the master and apprentice spoke softly together about those that had been lost, Padme, Satine, and so many more.

But peace had come.

Anakin and Obi-wan faded back into the Force, leaving the happy Rebels to their revelry.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ I hope you liked this ending. I've been planning it for over two months now. And honestly if you have a couple minutes to stick around I'd like to talk about it, what I did and why. I know there's a danger in explanations, in breaking the spell, but I don't care. I want you the reader to understand this like I did.

The original idea for this comes from a single piece of repeated imagery in Obi-Wan's life, that of someone important to him dying in his arms. His master died in his arms, his love died in his arms, and his greatest enemy died in his arms. You'll notice that I strongly featured all three of these in my stories. Now here, at the end, I turned the imagery around. For the last time, Obi-Wan's apprentice comes back to life in his arms, and Anakin is made whole again. If my last story was influenced strongly by Tolkien, this was on was strongly influenced by his friend C.S. Lewis, and I (unconsciously at first, then deliberately after I realized it) took inspiration from his writing.

Ultimately the goal of this story was to act as a happily ever after capstone, at least for the life of Obi-Wan, and by extension Anakin. Mater and Apprentice, together again and fully reconciled to one another, now and forever more.

On a more practical level, I used this piece to explain a few anomalies in Canon. Why could Anakin appear as a Force ghost if he was never trained to do so? Perhaps Obi-Wan was appointed to hold him and save him from losing himself in the Cosmic Force. Why did Anakin appear young while Yoda and Obi-Wan appeared old? (at least in the special editions. Look I know some people don't like ANY of the changes, but I feel this one makes an awful lot of sense) Perhaps Obi-Wan and Yoda appeared as Luke knew them, and Anakin appeared when last he was part of the light since Luke had NEVER known him as anything but Vader. Finally, I also added the invisible Qui-Gon to the forest scene at Endor, since his part in the saga is more important than most people tend to remember.

Thanks for sticking around and reading this whole collection of stories! There are some in here I've very proud of. The Cody one was a favorite of mine, as well as the Han Solo, and second Ahsoka story. I'm even oddly fond of the Jar Jar one, because apparently, according to Springfieldbluebird, I made him the "most palatable he's ever been." I'll take it. lol.

Looking back I can't believe I had the insanity to start a collection of short stories with this many different points of view. Good gravy, I have no idea what I was thinking...

I appreciate you guys reading. If you haven't yet followed, favorited, or reviewed, I would love it if you would, for two reasons. First, it's the only way I get to know what you think about it, and fanfiction writers REALLY love to hear from readers. Second, stories that get interactions are the ones that get read, so if you liked this story the only way more people will eventually find it and read it, is if those numbers (follows, favorites, and reviews) go up.

Either way thanks one more time!

This was two and a half months of a lot of hours spent. I need a break! :D

Westward Glance


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